#regardless of titles or shows or testing

[cheriladycl01]

ANGST ( friendship ended, ego battles, Championship, Ferrari, Red Bull, Dutchman, American Girl, unrequired love, Title battle)

Y/N and Max have been friends since their go-karting days. She was a driver for Alpha Tauri and achieved spectacular results with the team and was hoping to take the second seat at Red Bull, but as other drivers are ahead of her to take that spot, she accepts a million-dollar proposal from Ferrari. Max is bewildered by her decision and breaks up a years-long friendship for a trivial reason, as she is thinking about the good part of her career and at Ferrari she has a chance to fight for titles. She is devastated by Max's reaction and his contempt for her, the Dutchman starts to pretend that the American doesn't exist and ignores her both in the paddock and in Monaco, where they live. Fans, fellow riders and the media are devastated how such a lasting friendship ended in such a heavy climate, the American media blasts Max, while the Dutch media trashes Y/N. Y/N and Max enter into a brutal and fierce dispute for the 2024 championship, more tense than 2021, due to the entire context that involves the two. Max felt betrayed by her leaving Red Bull and by her never realizing that he always liked her, but now she's the one who doesn't want anything to do with him in her life anymore and she's going to do whatever it takes to be world champion. They arrive in Abu Dhabi tied and in the wheel-to-wheel dispute, Y/N becomes world champion, and Max realizes that he made a mistake with the love of his life and is humbled by her forgiveness.

This is the story of us! - Max Verstappen x FerrariDriver! Reader

Plot: In the style of a documentary find out what really happened in the year of 2024 between Max Verstappen and Y/N Y/L/N.

“Audio test in the studio please Y/N” the Documenter asks from behind cameras.

“10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1” you say your face on camera as some continues to fix your hair.

A News Broadcaster pops up from 2023 on Sky Sports News.

“Today the shocking news has come that rather than signing with Red Bull Y/N Y/LN has made a million dollar move to Ferrari”

“Y/L/N to drive in Red for the 2024 season”

“Red Bull decision to not sign Y/L/N leaves them out no options says Adrian Newey”

News articles play in overlay over each other as they get more frequent about your career change 2 years ago.

“Hiya Y/N” the interviewer for the documentary asks.

“Hello” you smile back politely on the footage.

“So this documentary is about the Formula One season of 2024 and … your intense battle for the championship”

“Mmmmm all very interesting no?” You joke before serious music comes on. Showing some shots of you racing, and some of the radios that came from that season.

“This isn’t right! Why isn’t my team working together” your voice come through.

“Y/N it’s time to back off. You can’t win this one”

“I’m never going to give up, it’s me or him in this dust and I don’t care which as this point as long as I know I pushed”

“Y/N are you okay? Y/N?”

“What the fuck was that?”

“Guys this is my last chance let’s put it all in”

“FUCK THIS GUY MAN”

“Yes it was … a heated season for sure” you chuckle.

“So start by telling us about your early life” she asks after a small compilation of early photos of you karting before it’s edited to flick back and forth between your interview and clips of you karting and in the feeder series.

“I started karting from a very young age, around 6 and worked my way up like any other driver. Eventually Red Bull … saw potential in me and decided to sponsor me and make me a part of their Young Drivers Programme. That eventually fed me into a seat in AlphaTauri or what is now Visa CashApp RB” you start, hands clenched together.

“I saw everyone else get a chance at that Red Bull seat before me regardless of my performance. And when they signed Sergio Perez, someone from a different team, that tipped me over the edge” you admit, knowing that it was one of the hardest heartbreaks you experienced.

“And that’s when Ferrari came in?” The interviewer asks.

“That’s when Ferrari came in, they wanted something fresh and new and I’d pretty much grown up with Charles just like I had Max, so there was no concern about us being Team-Mates. It was … despite Ferraris struggles in recent years, my only way forward” you nod your head, before the documentary shows your driving in your AlphaTauri and your incredible win in that car, that should have been the reason Horner wanted to sign you.

“Max … wasn’t happy with this decision” she asks and you nod.

“He wasn’t … i thought if anything was to ruin our friendship it would be an external relationship that didn’t appreciate our bond. Not … because of a job” you laugh thinking of his reaction and how he’d cut you off in all aspects of life.

That year was difficult for you, even though you’d had more people around you than you’d ever had in your life you had never felt more lonely.

Max had pretty much axed you out of his life. He’d blocked you on every social media, every messaging platform and even put your emails into his junk folder. You thought it was a step too far writing to him so, you left it.

You left an eleven year friendship to just go down the drain. You didn’t realise until he was actually gone how much of an impact Max Verstappen had on you and your life. He was there for you for every major thing that happened in your life and this move to Ferrari felt like your next step. But he had no longer wished to be a part of that.

“What did it feel like when you announced going to Ferrari?” Your asked and your paused for a while before you face the interviewer.

“I think everybody dreams of driving for Ferrari, no matter what team your currently with as … it’s the pinnacle of motorsport. But to be the first female to drive for Ferrari is a statement. The day I made the announcement and it went onto the F1 page that my contract was up with RedBull and AlphaTauri for the 2023 season I couldn’t have been happier because it felt like I was finally moving forward and not stuck in the same spot” you answer and she nods.

“And how did that affect your friendships?” She asks and you almost scoff.

“Why didn’t you just say Max” you chuckle before sighing. You never mind talking about it especially now, of course you were upset and heated back then. You normally tending to be after racing if it didn’t go your way anyway, but when it came to Max leaving you there were times you were pretty nonchalant about it because you didn’t know how to react.

It was the later reaction that was more frightening.

“Well, that would spoil that kind of answer, clearly there’s more of an issue here than with any other driver” she asks.

“You’ve done your research, you know exactly what happened”

Media floods in the documentary American News anchors sending hate to Max Verstappen especially when he came to home turf for a race and the Deutch fans butchering you in the Netherlands.

SkySports -

“Max Verstappen is brutal, can’t imagine ever being as petty as he is”

ESPN News -

“And today we have news that Red Bull Driver Max Verstappen has cut all ties with new Ferrari Driver Y/N Y/L/N, for her change of team”

Fan at the Track -

“You know Max is incredibly overrated and childish for what he did to our American pride and joy”

News in the Netherlands

“ze is gewoon een vreselijke chauffeur”

Fan at Zandvoort

“neuk haar”

It pans back to you looking down at your hands before the interviewer speaks up again.

“So before the season started did you and Max have any heated arguments that contributed to the start of the season?” She asks and you shake your head.

“He blocked me on everything, I was with my ex-boyfriend at that point and we were travelling during the winter break so it didn’t bother me too much. I tried to keep myself distracted knowing I had great support around me, a new team to get to know and work with.

But as the 2024 started to get closer and you came back home to Monaco, sensing Max had disappeared from your life finally sunk in. You had many days at home wrapped up in blankets crying, wondering where it all went wrong.

Making you feel lonely in Monaco was one thing, but it only got worse in the paddock when racing resumed for the testy 2024 season.

A video plays of the Bahrain testing in 2024 you on track in a semi fast Ferrari that people cannot tell whether you are sandbagging or not Max breezing past you.

Strangely that was the closest you’d been to Max in months.

“Monaco was different now that you didn’t have your best friend … how did you occupy your time instead?” She asked.

It showed videos of you partying in Monaco with Charles your soon to be team-mate, Lando Norris and Daniel Ricciardo.

Then it flicked to you and Lando golfing with Max Fewtrell, while vacationing.

It flicked to a very public argument between you and your boyfriend which proceeded to your breakup.

“Well, it was an interesting build up to the season. Let’s just say that” you smirk knowing at the start of 2024 before preseason testing you caused a lot of chaos all to try get your mind off the absence of Max.

“Then we find ourselves at Bahrain 2024… a race I think that will be in the history books as one of the most tense season openings ever” she admits writing something down on the notepad she had that she really didn’t need.

“Yes, it was an interesting race. I think that was the first time I was in equal machinery to Max, at the start of the season we didn’t start off as good as RedBull but Charles and I were giving him a run for his money” you admit knowing Sergio Perez didn’t have the greatest start to the season and now that you were locked into Ferrari, Red Bull were beating themselves up over the loss of you.

“So Max took pole and you were only 0.003 seconds behind him, what a margin! You started P2 both front row” she smiles and you nod.

“Yeah I think that’s the most scared I’ve ever felt in a race car, P2 has been my best qualifying position and I couldn’t let it go to waste. But having Max next to me with everything that was going on was a massive headache” you tell her and there’s a clip of you looking over at Max sat next to you just before the formation lap was about to begin.

“Let’s talk about turn 1 Bahrain …” she asks and you nod.

“I mean, I was racing and I was racing hard. I gave Max plenty of room, I had the inside line and I got past him and led. It was a good overtake and the team didn’t exactly tell me not to go for it” you explain and she nods.

“But after your pit stop stuff got real” she adds and you nod with a roll of your eyes.

“Tell me about it” you laugh.

“AND VERSTAPPEN GOES FOR THE OVERTAKE GOING INTO TURN 5, Y/N DEFENDING BEAUTIFULLY AND HE GOES AGAIN EDGING HER INTO TURN SIX AND OMG HES OFF INTO THE GRAVEL! MAX VERSTAPPEN IS OUT IF THE BAHRAIN GP” it shows the commentary from Crofty when this was all happening showing Max getting out the car and slamming his helmet down.

“WHAT THIS Y/N HAS DAMAGE THERE WAS IN FACT CONTACT AND SHES HAD TO PULL OVER NOT MAKING IT BACK TO THE PITS FOR A NEW TYRE” is shown also you getting out of the car, your escorted back to the pit wall while Safety Car is deployed.

“Yours and Max’s argument that day while the race was still underway and Charles was leading, was intense who actually started it?” She asks.

“Oh Max did 100%. I was just talking to my race engineer and he came over all pissy and yelling in my face. Seeing him so red and angry was funny though” you admit.

“I think that’s the first time people had seen seriously Mad Max since the Ocon incident”

“I guess I just bring that side out of him” you admit with a nod.

“What the fuck was that” Max came over to you, you took a step back hoping to defuse the situation knowing their was cameras around and you didn’t really want to bring attention to either of you.

“Look Max we were both racing hard. It happens, you went into me, we both ended up out the race … it happens” you explain and the camera men all get closer.

“You went into me! Are you having a laugh!” He says until he starts ranting in Dutch and his PR manager and a Marshall take him away from you.

“Bahrain was incredibly dramatic for a race. The champion of last year was sat at the bottom of the leader board and Charles, Lando and George were looking at the top spots. How did the make you feel?” She asks and you nod.

“Obviously it’s concerning. Coming back isn’t easy after a feat like that, so we knew we’d have to come back in Saudi and make it better than it was. It’s also hard to come back from something like that mentally? Yano. So Saudi was hard especially all the media around me” you explains and it cuts to clips of all kinds of media swarming around you asking you stuff about Max and your race in Bahrain.

“In Saudi you and Max raced hard but eventually it ended up with Max in P1 and you in P2 and Lando P3… that podium was tense” she explains and a video of the podium came up, showing Max celebrating with everyone but you. You ending up leaving him and Lando and leant over the fence of the podium to spray your team down below.

“Lando and Max are close, but you and Lando are aswell so how did it feel having no celebration up there with you?” She asked.

“Lando is actually the sweetest person I’ve ever met. He cares about everybody and everything and he worries when he thinks he’s upset someone. He messaged me after that podium, apologising for leaving me out of the celebration and he didn’t even realise he had as he was so caught up in Max spraying him he thought it was both of us. I obviously replied saying I wasn’t upset and that it was okay. I had my team and that’s all I really needed at the end of the day” you nod knowing it WAS a hard podium to be up on but you made the best of a bad situation.

“The comes Australia, and this is your first time to regain the points lost in Bahrain. So what did you do?”

“Man … the first time I won was so nice … that I just had to do it twice” you quote Anthony Joshua with a little laugh. Before it shows you’re victory.

“AND FOR THE SECOND TIME IN HER FORMULA ONE CAREER THE AMERICAN TAKES HOME THE CHEQUERED FLAG TAKING VICTORY IN AUSTRALIA, TEAMMATE CHARLES LECLERC BEHIND HER IN P2 WITH LANDO NORRIS CLOSING UP THE PODIUM” Ted commentates.

“It was an incredible feeling, knowing I was now making my way back up the ranks and was in P3 in the championship, Max was behind me and I felt like I was back in the game. To DNF’s for him was almost laughable.

“The points were very amusing come China, you were leading the championship and Ferrari were at the top for the constructors championship. And Max, Lando and Charles were all on 76 points and you were on 78… how tight!?” She adds.

“Yes, it was crazy how varied this season was with wins, especially with how RedBull were insanely dominant the year before and RedBull took all wins bar Singapore. At this point I wasn’t just fighting Max in he championship there was word at Ferrari that team orders were going to come into play to help Charles win but when we were both so close in points it was easier to just let us race” you explain happily, knowing that it was a fun season to be a part of.

“But after China was a sort of turning point for Max correct?” She asks and you nod again.

“It was for both of us. After China it was a constant change between me and Max of who was going to win, Lando and Charles remained close, but not enough to win.” You explain but her look tells you you didn’t give her the answer she was after.

“I meant about Max trying to rekindle that friendship you both once had” she asks and you scoff.

“Mmmmm you’ll have to ask him about that… at the time I could only assume he wanted to be my friend to distract me from what was important … winning” you answer.

“Hello Max” the interviewer says as their special guest for the documentary comes in. He takes a seat, a stoic nod as he does.

“So, Y/N didn’t seem to be able to tell us what happened after the Chinese Grand Prix, it seems from sources that you unblocked her on everything and attempted contact?” She asks and Max nods.

“I- I did. After seeing her wins, and her face once she realised it was a full fight this year and how excited that made her I knew I was in the wrong for ever letting our bond go. I don’t think she even cared about the championship that year, just being in a team that was letting her drive a good car, with a good team and actually help her improve. I was in the wrong but at this point … she was only focused on racing” he sings and a compilation of videos of the pair of you arguing on track came up.

“It was just affecting you guys either was it?”

“No, it was hard especially for Lando, Daniel and Charles, we’re all so close and Lando and Y/n are like siblings so when it came to the both of us not talking it was difficult for them. Y/N being … well Y/N didn’t want to make it a big deal and started hanging out more with her other friends like Yuki, Logan, Zhou, George and Alex but it still meant it was … awkward to say the least” he admits.

“Yeah, that sounds rough, do you ever regret it?” She asks and he nods.

“For a long long time, I didn’t think that I would be able to reconcile our friendship like Nico and Lewis did” he admits.

“But you think that now?” She asks and he smiles.

“I know so” he smirks

It was the end of the season, you and Max were tied in points so for fans it was like Abu Dhabi 2021 all over again. Max was starting P1 and you were starting P2, you’d overtaken him down the straight having better straight line speed than his car did. You were practically flying round the track, Max chugging along behind you eventually setting the fastest lap, and you just knew the cheer from the crowd would have been phenomenal if you could hear it.

After great strategy from Ferrari you ended up winning that race, along with the Championship. Getting out the car was a feeling like no other, you bend down by the wheel of your car, tears streaming out your eyes and dripping on the still closed visor as your knees give out from a tricky and hot race as you sob.

You run over to the Ferrari team, them all pulling you into hugs along with Charles and his girlfriend who looks so excited to celebrated with you.

“OMG” you cried into Fred’s arms. What surprised you the mot was a tap on your back and a blue race suit. You were silent looking at Max.

“Congratulations” he says and tears are still in your eyes. You just nod at him politely.

“Please Y/N I’m so sorry, I - you deserve the seat and the championship. You’ve done so well this year and I’m so proud of you” he smiles and more tears flood your eyes. All you’d wanted to hear was those words.

“Do you ever think you could forgive me, because I love you Y/N and I cannot loose you” he says tears brimming his own eyes.

“I forgave you a long time ago Max, this was all really stupid” you smile at him. Before your team I pulling you away to get you to the podium.

“After the podium, come meet me at the bay, 3rd yacht along… okay I have to tell you something” he shouts after you and you nod grinning.

“What happened on that boat Max?” The interviewer asks.

“That’s for me to know and no-one to ever find out …” he smirks before laughing and giving you as kiss on the cheek as you come back into the room.

“Y/N?”

“Mmmmm I’m with Max, but let’s just say … we rekindled” you laugh and the cameras cut out the documentary ended.

“So you guys are obviously together … what changed?” She asks off camera curiosity getting the best of her.

“We worked out that we had feeling for each other for a very very long time before the fight!” You answer and well, that was that.

Taglist:

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[slytherinshua]

FATAL FLAW

genre. rivals to lovers. fluff. warnings. competitive/perfectionist reader. both reader and taesan dance competitively. a little jealousy. not proofread. pairing. taesan x fem!reader. wc. 1.1k. request. requested by anon for #6: "I realized why I couldn't stand you; I can't stop loving you and it's driving me crazy." a/n. this was only supposed to be like 500 words what happened... idk like the dance rival plot just appeared in my head so i was like okay lets go w that USUALLY WRITING FOR TAESAN IS RLY HARD SO IM GLAD THIS FIC WAS KINDA THE OPPOSITE SDJKS net. @onedoornet

Dongmin was your biggest rival in everything. Whether it was in school or at dance competitions, you would always be fighting for who would place first. You had a lot of respect for Dongmin, although your blood boiled whenever you placed second to him. Before he showed up, first place already had your name written on it before you even showed up to competitions. Your title as the ace was in limbo the second the raven haired boy showed his face.

You did well in school to make your parents happy, and were lucky enough to be able to place first without trying too hard. As long as you studied the material, your brain would do the rest. Dance was a different field, though. It was one of the only things that hadn’t come naturally to you as a child. Your parents were proud of you for sticking with something hard, hoping that you’d learn to persevere even when things were tough. When you eventually got to the top of your class in all dance areas as well, your parents were at a standstill. The appearance of Dongmin was celebrated by them, but not by you.

Worst of all, your parents were friends with his, and whether it was studying together or driving to dance class, they made sure your schedules were always intertwined. You saw the boy more than you saw your own friends. It was insufferable. You hated the way he smirked at you whenever he placed first, taunting you with those perfectly shaped eyebrows raising just slightly. You hated how he licked his lips, testing your self composure by making them look so inviting. And you hated his nickname for you; princess.

The week had been unpleasant all around. Dongmin had gone to extra dance classes in the morning, leaving you to get to school on your own. At first you had been excited at the idea— finally getting a break from the boy after months. Now you realized that having him next to you was better than seeing him at a distance. Your eyes couldn’t seem to leave him as you picked at your school lunch, eyeing him down like a hawk from across the cafeteria.

Why in the world was he talking to Minju and smiling? Your chopsticks almost snapped with how harsh you were holding them.

The situation only got worse that evening, as Dongmin had booked a slot at the studio to practice his solo, whereas you were left at home to study for a test which you already knew you would ace. You barely wrote anything in your notes, ending up spacing out instead, your phone open to Dongmin’s chat. You hated how you couldn’t get your mind off of him.

Your brain suddenly clicked, a sudden realization crashing down on you that you had never even considered before. And with your mind racing and impulsivity coursing through your veins, you grabbed your phone and rushed out of the house in the direction of the dance studio.

It was late in the night and only a couple rooms were in use, one of which was studio 8: where you could hear the music blasting for Dongmin’s solo. You didn’t bother knocking before entering the room, immediately catching the attention of a very surprised Dongmin.

“Hey, what are you doing here—“ 

“I need to tell you something.” You said simply. Dongmin gave you a questioning glance, but switched off the music regardless, grabbing a drink of water and a cloth to wipe his sweat. 

“You couldn’t have just told me over text or something?” He asked.

“No, I need to tell you in person.” 

Dongmin crossed his arms, taking a couple steps towards you, “Alright. Go ahead and say it, princess.” 

You took a breath, “I realized why I couldn’t stand you for all those months.” That caught Dongmin’s attention more than you storming into the practice room. He waited for you to continue speaking, eyes glued to your face.

“I can’t stop loving you and it’s driving me crazy.” You completed, daring to look up at his face, watching for his reaction.

You expected disgust or maybe his signature smirk to adorn his face like countless times before. He would probably enjoy having another way to beat you. But instead, shock and slight confusement showed on his face, a twinge of hope behind those ebony eyes. He took a tentative step forward, more hesitant than his previous ones, closing the rest of the distance between you and him. 

“You love me?” He questioned, trying to get his brain to process what you had just said. It was so unbelievable— especially coming from you. Dongmin had tried to get your attention for months. When his efforts only led to you getting mad, he had thought about giving up. But the rivalry kept your attention on him, and he quickly learned to accept that he might not have a chance with you, but he would still give it a valiant effort. 

You were the only girl he had ever crushed on, and he hadn’t anticipated that it would throw him headfirst into a lovesick disease that he couldn’t cure. You were both the poison and the antidote. Every day you plagued his mind, all efforts he tried to erase your pretty face out of his head failing. It was the fact that you were so close yet just out of reach that Dongmin couldn’t handle. He wanted you, needed you, for so many months. And now, finally, you were confessing to him.

“I-it’s stupid. I’ve hated you every single day since you first showed up. But, I can’t get you out of my head. Just get out of my head, please.” You whispered the last part in desperation, suffering from the very same lovesickness that Dongmin had endured for months. 

His eyes softened looking at you, but he shook his head, “I’ve tried for months to get you to think about me. I’m not gonna leave now.” He took hold of your wrist, pulling you forward so your face was mere centimetres away from his. His eyes asked for permission from you, eyeing your lips and eyes until you gave him a slight nod. He didn’t waste a second diving in, finally fulfilling what he had longed for since the first time he met you.

And it didn’t disappoint. The softness of your lips was just as he had imagined, and they fit perfectly with his, as if you were made for him. You— perfect face, perfect dance, perfect grades, perfect everything— had finally found your fatal flaw: falling for your rival. But maybe it wasn’t such a disastrous miscalculation on your part. Maybe you and Dongmin were destined to be from the start.

↳ boynextdoor taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @rizzshimura,, @captivq,, @icyminghao,, @eternalgyu,, @metalchick529,,

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[raayllum]

She Must Pay the Price, or A Drop of Mercy :: A Rayla and Leola Meta

Quick:

You're a young elven girl, and you show mercy and compassion to a human that you definitely weren't supposed to. When it's found out, you're punished, with elves even calling for your execution (6x09, book 1 novelization). Your father does what he can, but there's only so much. You're put on trial. You're found guilty regardless of intent, and only by association. You die for this; you die for them. You're a star. A guiding light. There's even a Great Fall off a precipice (though only one of you hits the ground).

Your name is Leola, or Rayla.

You're the beginning and the end, respectively.

So let's talk about it.

Tests of Love

For years, I had wondered where Aaravos' assessment of "Those who fail tests of love are simple animals. They deserve to be motivated by fear" (2x09) came from, cause you don't drop in a line like that if it's not going somewhere. It's quite a statement and worldview, after all. Now, with Leola's trial, it seems we know.

We can see, then, perhaps that Leola's gift giving was the first test of love — are you willing to break the Natural Law, the Natural Order of things? — to help another? To show another a source of power in order to share, to be compassionate, and in Rayla's case, to be merciful (though we'll get more to that in a minute).

We also know that the love Leola had was powerful and all encompassing:

She didn't care to follow the order set in the stars. Though she was born an immortal being from the Heavens, she loved this world... and all its flaws. Her heart was warm and open.

And she befriended mortals. Animals, elves... and humans.

ETHARI: Who I love, where I love, what I love, are all specific. But to Runaan and those like your parents... love is rooted in all families, all creatures. Souls like that feel called to protect everyone as fiercely as those they hold close. (Bloodmoon Huntress)

Okay, so Leola and Rayla both have big compassionate hearts and befriend creatures from all over the place. So what? So do Callum, Ezran, Soren, and most of our other main good guy characters. Even Claudia to a degree (though she could work on not using magical creatures for spell parts).

Well, specifically, it's because of how they intersect currently more with anyone else on the concept of

Mercy

KOSMO: Daughter of the Moon, yours is a wondrous heart. In a moment of mercy, you sent ripples out into the ocean of time. Ripples that have not yet stilled. (6x05)

Rayla sparing Marcos, as noted in multiple interviews by the creators and by myself in previous metas, is ultimately the inciting incident / lynchpin of the entire series. Without it, there would've been no soulfang proposal or Ez running away to find the egg or any of the number of other elements that had to come together to make achieving peace possible.

While we still have details to discover regarding Aaravos' Fall and development of dark magic, we know that a lack of mercy was ultimately what sent him on his path of vengeance. Leola was not shown mercy, and while it seems there were already "flaws" for an imperfect world, things were (probably) better than they currently are in Xadia in a variety of ways. Then, to kick off the entire Saga, we have Rayla sparing Marcos in a soundtrack literally titled "Mercy" and have Kosmo, seasons and seasons later, spell out directly what a big deal this was for well, the ocean of time.

None of this is to say Rayla can't act out of revenge — she did ("when I first came here, I was on a mission for revenge") and she has ("but I became so obsessed with revenge"), much like Aaravos ("he isn't doing anything out of love, he's doing it for revenge") — but that her general compassion and love for others has always been stronger than her grief or rage, and that even when she had every social and personal reason to, she was and is fundamentally unable to hurt someone innocent.

Even when she's shamed or punished for it by herself or by others. RAYLA: The human looked up at me, and I saw the fear in his eyes. RUNAAN: Of course he was afraid, but you a job to do! (1x01)

EZRAN: Yeah, but then you saw he was scared, and you knew he was a person, just like you. RAYLA: That shouldn't have mattered. I had a job to do. (1x08)

The Cosmic Council — and to a degree, the Silvergrove — say that the reasonings or motivations, the intentions, behind Leola and Rayla's actions do not and should not matter when it comes out to doling 'Justice'. So Leola faces her justice, being literally killed in the one manner that can kill a Startouch elf, and so does Rayla, being metaphorically Ghosted / 'murdered' by her community, regardless.

Neither are enough to ultimately quell their light or their love/power, however.

A Star

RAYLA: That beautiful shining star you just pointed out? We call it Leola's Last Wish. (5x02)

So both Leola and Rayla are stars in season 6, literally and metaphorically respectively. Leola's is more self-explanatory, whereas Rayla's is mostly about the role she has in Callum's life as a guiding light and star. I don't think it's a coincidence, though, that just as Rayla placed Callum on his path of being a primal mage, though, that Leola did the same for humanity. I also don't think it's a coincidence that Callum's love for Rayla restores Callum's own light and agency amid Leola giving humanity the same through light and fire.

It happened long ago, when humans had only just learned to hold fire in their hands without burning. They nurtured their precious primal flames secretly—in the dark of night, beneath shadows and shrouds—as cultivating its glow drew the eyes and ire of monsters. Eventually, for the audacity of their fire, they were hunted, and—though they looked to the stars for salvation—the stars, too, looked down upon them with disdain. Humanity had been given something it was never meant to have. (TDP shorts, Ripples)

In this way, we see the manifestation of a repeating parallel of Rayla representing Leola, a gift giver of life, magic, light, unjustly punished/killed, and Callum representing humanity, looking to the kindest brightest star for guidance, magic, restoration, and salvation if he's just given the chance to grasp it. After all, presumably, Leola's last wish would have something to do with primal magic and humanity, and who represents that better than Callum, with two arcana under his belt and possibly more on the way? With that in mind, I want to return to another quote from earlier but with a different focus on

Ripples

Daughter of the Moon, yours is a wondrous heart. In a moment of mercy, you sent ripples out into the ocean of time. Ripples that have not yet stilled.

The wisest of the humans looked upon the water. His own reflection smiled back at him, and he dared to imagine what such power would feel like in his own hands, should he be allowed to hold it. Imagine, he thought, if I were more than what I am. With a trembling hand he touched the surface of the water. Ripples spread from his fingertips. [...] I hope the stars were watching. I hope they saw it: the moment their perfect reflections turned warped and ruined, churned to chaos by the touch of a single human hand. In this, the humans taught me another lesson. And so I touch the surface of the water. I watch the ripples spread.

Water in TDP is a strange beast, symbolically speaking. There are some more straight forward motifs (reflections, "don't try to control where the river [of life] goes, there's one thing you can know and control: yourself"). For Aaravos, it's connected to deep loss but also his own sense of patience in playing and winning his game, as illustrated above. For Rayla, it's linked to shame, self-reflection, bravery, and loss. Aaravos weeps and creates a sea upon losing Leola; Rayla says goodbye to her family by the lotus pond times three.

We don't know what water represents for Leola. Not distinctly, anyway. The best we can figure though, is that by following the through line of the Rayla and Leola parallels, that the ripples Leola wanted to send out or did send out — not the distortions caused by her father and his grief — are ones that Rayla received, and then continued.

Rayla has always been a foil to Aaravos, and this hasn't changed. She is the one who set Callum on the path initially of being a mage, which put him in Aaravos' machinations as prey; she retrieved his Key; and she's the reason Callum's done dark magic, twice. At the same time, much like the moon, Rayla carries Leola's light as much as she shoulders Aaravos' dark. She literally represents light in Callum's life, helps lead him through the darkness, and him being a primal mage and it's possible growth to other humans is the best possible thing that could've ever happened to Xadia.

Sol Regem says that "no one can save" Xadia or fix what is deeply broken. The Cosmic Council said that Leola had broken the Cosmic order and had to pay the price. Rayla has repeatedly been willing to pay the price for both hers and other's actions in hopes of making things right, of sparing others' pain. Sometimes to her detriment, but—if Rayla as Callum's one Truth could fix the darkness within him, if she's the lynchpin for breaking the Cycle, for bringing back Runaan and fixing her family's souls, in opposing and presenting mercy amid the Council's lack of mercy, in the face of Xadia's violence—

Then Rayla's act of mercy in 1x01, and potentially beyond in S7 with Callum, will be what fixes Xadia.

Leola's gift of magic is what 'broke' Xadia, and her execution is what literally did so, leading to the division of the continent. She wrongly paid the price in the absence of mercy and love. Rayla is therefore her thematic successor — welcomed this time as Light and Truth — as the carrier of Mercy and Love, and she will 'fix' Xadia through her ripples and dynamics. She will mend them back together. There will, at last, be no price to pay.

Misc. Thoughts / Predictions

One thing I was always curious about going forward into future seasons was the prospect of a 'trial' or reunification of the Silvergrove. It felt like a no-brainer the Silvergrove would have to change in order to reflect Runaan's character arc, much the way we see Katolis and the Sunfire elves change to better accommodate the new, more compassionate world order. Pre-S4 a trial felt a little strange as an idea, though post-S4 the parallels it could provide to the Lucia tribunal made more sense about why include either (or both).

However, Leola's trial seemed to hammer home the almost necessity (as this is still a prediction, after all, that may not happen) of Rayla and/or Runaan saying their peace to the Silvergrove leaders. This would be a great opportunity to provide a contrast to the Cosmic Council, reaffirming that Xadia is ultimately better than them because the Moonshadow elves and everyone else can change, and the Cosmic Council seemingly cannot or will not. But I guess we'll have to wait for S7 or beyond (#GiveUsTheSaga) to find out if this'll come to fruition or not.

I also wanted to touch on what we see with Leola ("I'm so scared!") and the repeated emphasis on "recognizing fear as a moment of empathy and personhood" and the horror that can come if you don't have that moment of recognition. This is something I've touched on before most notably as a striking difference between S1 Rayla and S5 Claudia, but I thought it was worth mentioning as S6 added to it specifically with Viren towards Soren and Lissa. This is another point in the "Rayla is an inversion of the Council's lack of mercy" column, as Leola's — a child's fear, and Aaravos willing to pay the price and take her place — earns her no mercy. Rayla, meanwhile, sees someone innocent that she has 'every right' to execute is afraid of her, and that strays her hand; it steadies her sword, and she spares him. Because if someone is afraid of you, it's worth asking yourself why, and what you might want to do instead.

Last but not least I wanted to talk about Leola's parallels to Callum and Ezran as well, since they are very much there (though yet not perhaps to the same extent).

Ezran has Leola's friendliness to animals and soft heart. He too is a child whose death is called for as a means of Justice, and he is granted mercy through Rayla and the discovery of the egg, able to live and grow and help usher in peace. He is, I think, what Leola might've been allowed to be if she'd lived in different times. Callum, meanwhile, carries the gift giving motif through his cube, staff, and tokens he both gives to (moon-phoenix bracelet) and receives (the moon opal necklace) from Rayla, and previous 'human-Leola' magic dynamic. Callum being able to break free fully from Aaravos' and dark magic's control in S7 and turn his eye instead to primal magic will be what helps bring true justice to Leola and hope for humanity / Xadia in righting the Cosmic Council's fundamental wrongdoing. Hopefully, anyway.

Conclusion

I hope you enjoyed this deep dive into some parallels and potential narrative goings-on between Leola and Rayla as characters. TDP loves its historical and ironic layers in TDP (Ez and the Orphan Queen, Viren's arc from S1 to S6) and I think this layered thematic dynamic between the two merciful young girls was a good, brilliant choice by the creative team. I'm excited to see where this thematic thread goes in the future and how it may continue to be woven into the story. As always, thank you for reading, and I'll see you in the next one.

[despazito]

You're not being a dick! The dog world can be very convoluted.

Most reputable breeders show their dogs, and honestly it's a red flag if your breeder doesn't do any kind of activities with their animals (doesn't necessarily have to be conformation showing, can be any work/sports or obedience eventing).

Usually most of their puppies will go to pet homes, and breeders occasionally pick puppies they really like for showing/breeding prospects or opt to co-own with somebody who will show the dog under the kennel's name. The amount of puppies per litter who have showing potential can depend on how successful the parents are in the ring and how sought after the bloodlines are, but even if they look right they have to have a good temperament to be handled in the ring, and it's not uncommon for pups to fail that training and just become pets. There really shouldn't be a drastic range in soundness between show and pet quality puppies within the same litter or kennel. Most pups do end up in pet homes, and all show dogs are also beloved pets that are often extremely spoiled and doted on!

All these puppies will receive the same care and upbringing show quality or not, although I will say there are instances of puppies being put to sleep for being born without signature breed traits such as ridgeless Rhodesian ridgebacks, but nowadays that's a fringe minority. A good breeder will want all their puppies going to good homes regardless of showdog potential where they will all hopefully have the best QOL.

As for being "better off" if they're closer to the breed standard, that really depends on the standard! Most standards are fine, but here's an illustration of an ideal English bulldog from the American EB club:

imo a dog bred away from this standard to have a longer snout and less bulkiness that has a lower likelihood of developing brachycephalic obstructive airway syndrome, a condition which hinders QOL, would be 'better' than one bred closer to standard. This is why I'm cautious of the assumption that breeding to standard=breeding to health, because a handful of standards straight up encourage unhealthy traits..

That being said, someone not breeding to standard and not showing their dogs really should have solid reasoning and an explanation of their goals as a breeder. Because folks who simply "want to breed pets" with random dogs are almost always backyard breeders who breed unsound dogs with dubious temperaments. If they aren't producing working dogs or have extensive history with dogs and are working on, say, an outcross project or trying to solve a health issue within their breed that involves straying from the standard I would be weary of them (and an intensively researched outcross project is not the same as simply breeding doodles, the breeder should have a rigorous health testing scheme for the parents and choose the cross based on more than just how cute the puppies will look and the catchiness of the designer name. if it sounds like they're pulling something out of their ass to justify the breeding, i would leave).

in theory, getting a puppy from titled showdog parents should be an assurance of quality. it shows the parents are even tempered enough to perform in a show ring with many other intact dogs and be handled and touched all over by the judges without any aggression (very green flag if you're looking into serious breeds known for being temperamental). but not all clubs imo have strict enough health screening policies, so sadly a champion parent is not an automatic guarantee that your pup is free of inheritable disease, some of which can be sadly quite nasty. in the very worst cases a breeder can even ignore their dogs hereditary issues because the dog is very pretty and wins ribbons, and you can't always count on club authorities to pull poorly dogs from the ring. this is why i think there needs to be more veterinary involvement in conformation judging and non-optional screenings to enter based on common health issues seen in the breed. you'd be surprised how lax some health screening criteria can be even in the highest rungs of conformation.

in conclusion, it really depends on the breed and the breeder. the best thing you can do is your own research, get familiar with common health issues in your desired breed, and ask your prospective breeder if they've done the proper testing. ask ask ask. a good breeder should be proud of their kennel and bloodlines, if they're cagey run away!!

[justjudethoughts]

In Defense of Peter Pevensie. Originally written in response to accusations of Peter being "less complex" than other Narnia characters

If King Lune is the embodiment of masculinity as father, then Peter is the embodiment of masculinity brother. As High King, he becomes the brother of his people, but those seeds were sown in his own family. 

From the very beginning of the story Peter is the leader of the Pevensie children, a job he evidently takes very seriously. But, unlike a lot of eldest siblings, he doesn’t use his status and power as a means to swagger around and lord it over the others. Quite the opposite, actually. It is immediately clear that one of Peter’s main functions in the Pevensie family is cheerleader of his siblings. This is shown not only in his open praise of their talents (for example, he hypes up Susan’s talent of archery in PC and cheers on Lucy for having been right after none of them believed her), but also generally tries to keep them in high spirits. 

Take the context of LWW. The Pevensies are sent to the countryside because of air raids. They are going into a strange house with a strange man because the Germans are obliterating everything the children have ever known or called home. All of them are scared, Edmund’s bullying Lucy, and Lucy may or may not be going insane. But Peter can’t show any of them that fear, because he’s the oldest. They can’t know he’s scared, so he puts a bold face on it. One of the first things he says in LWW is “We’ve landed on our feet and no mistake” when he looks at the big house. He argues they are going to have a delightful summer after all. The next day, when the others are disheartened by the rain, he suggests they explore the house.

As the years go on, Peter earns the title “Magnificent.” In this, Peter truly embodies the  JPII quote, “the ultimate test of your greatness is the way you treat every human being.” He has a bleeding heart for the least of these, but in an unassuming, humble way. Peter is not a man of pomp and circumstance. He has a servant’s heart, perhaps most evident in PC. 

Upon returning to Narnia and learning of Caspian’s plight, he immediately makes it known that he has no intention of replacing Caspian. “I haven’t come to take your place, but to put you in it” is among the first things he says to his new friend. This isn’t about winning fame or glory or reliving the old days. This is about making right what was wrong. 

He is generous with the Narnia creatures, even when they are a bit silly. When trying to pick a Marshall, he suggests the Giant Wimbleweather. Caspian warns him that the giant isn’t very smart, to which Peter responds, “Of course not. But any giant looks impressive if only he will keep quiet. And it will cheer him up.” Part of his reasoning is simply the injured feelings of poor Wimbleweather who earlier entirely messed up an important battle.  The following conversation also takes place while they are searching for a Marshall. Reepicheep offers his assistance:

"I am afraid it would not do," said Peter very gravely. "Some humans are afraid of mice——"

"I had observed it, Sire," said Reepicheep.

"And it would not be quite fair to Miraz," Peter continued, "to have in sight anything that might abate the edge of his courage."

Instead of embarrass and insult Reepicheep by explaining that he is far too small and unassuming for such a job, he appeals rather to humans' fear of mice. Even while battle prepping, his is concerned about the hearts of his people. Bulgy Bear, too, he allows to be a Marshall, as it is the right of bears, no matter how silly they are. 

Peter understands that duty means doing what is right, regardless of how it makes you feel. His first battle happens because Susan and Lucy are being chased by the wolves. When he hears Susan’s horn, he runs to help her. The book says, “Peter did not feel very brave; indeed, he felt he was going to be sick. But that made no difference to what he had to do.” His sisters needed him. And so he showed up. The same is true in PC, when he engages Miraz in single combat. Edmund asks if he can beat Miraz. Peter responds that he is fighting to find out. He goes in completely unsure that he is ever going to see his family again, but he does it anyway. Because Narnia needs him. Caspian needs him. His people need him. And his feelings aren’t the deciding factor. 

When he makes mistakes, he owns up to them. In LWW, when the children plead before Aslan on Edmund’s behalf, Peter blames himself for being too hard on Edmund. In PC, when they finally see Aslan, he apologizes for having led them wrong the whole time. He is always trying to do his very best and falling short like the rest of us. But he accepts his fault with humility, gets back up and tries again. 

By the Last Battle, we get to see Peter in his truest form. Even though he has been in England for years, when the seven friends see what looks like a ghost, he is the one who stands up and orders it to speak. Clad in his suspenders and button-down shirt, Peter is once more High King. “Shadow or spirit or whatever you are," he says, "If you are from Narnia, I charge you in the name of Aslan, speak to me. I am Peter the High King." And when night falls on Narnia for the last time it is Peter, once so scared to speak to Aslan (and even attempted to make Susan do it for him) that shuts the door. It is Peter that jests with Lucy when she weeps for Narnia, trying to lighten the mood. It is Peter that she turns to, time and time again, with her questions. It is Peter that Lucy, and all of the other friends of Narnia, trust to lead them. 

It is also Peter, who, “shortly and gravely” tells Tirian about the fall of Susan. Because he has to. Because here he is, once again, the eldest, the leader. Here he is once again faced with the unpleasant task of shouldering the burden for others. But he won’t make Edmund or Lucy explain (in fact, they don’t say anything about Susan). Peter takes that pain for them, forces himself to form words. Perhaps, deep down, he blames himself. He always was a bleeding heart. 

There are so many other things I didn’t include. I could talk about how Peter immediately offers to help Tumnus, simply because he did the decent thing and didn’t kidnap Lucy. Or his beautiful, redeemed relationship with Edmund. I could talk about all the times he is a rock for Susan, or his steady leadership despite his own hesitation. But really and truly, my point amounts to this: Peter is a brother. He is steady and humble and down to earth. He is brave. He is chivalrous and courteous and overflowing with affirmation for those he loves. He is a servant heart. 

When I think of Peter, I think of carpentry and the honesty of working with your hands. I think of campfires and a night sky full of stars, and the feeling of warm flannel. I think of laughter and 19th century books for boys, and tomes upon tomes of Latin. I think of warm drinks, hot cocoa or coffee or tea, and the safety of home. It is home I think of most of all. 

[calicobigamy]

Essence of a Babygirl (a tumblr joke essay)

Babygirl, the term has spiked in popularity, but what is a babygirl? Is the term a bit more complicated than at first glance? What is the essence of a babygirl? Today I will be answering these questions. 

Urban dictionary describes babygirl as thusly:

“A term used towards grown fictional men who have the fandom in a loving chokehold.”

A Mashable article titled The internet's 2022 horny dictionary defines babygirl as

“... a term of endearment for when a man is being cute, comfortable in his masculinity, or weak in an evocative way.”

These descriptions are wholesome. They create an avenue of masculinity that can be vulnerable and attractive at the same time. A term for a type of masculinity that creates room for a multi-dimensional character in fiction. Various fictional characters have been affectionately dubbed as “babygirls”. One of the most well known being Leon Kennedy from the Resident Evil franchise. 

However the term is also used to describe characters that are remarkably not wholesome. Characters like Izzy Hands, played by Con O’Neil from the incredible show written by David Jenkins called Our Flag Means Death and Marvel’s Loki, played by Tom Hiddleston, have been called babygirls. This must indicate a spectrum of “babygirlness” that scales from wholesome to not wholesome. 

A good babygirl can be seen at a glance, but what makes these other characters part of that babygirl spectrum on the negative side? As my colleague (@robogart) and I studied the issue we realized that negative babygirlness included more nuance. 

We created a study group to determine what attributes make up a bad babygirl. Included in our study was: Izzy Hands (Our Flag Means Death), Gal Dukat (Deep Space 9), David Xanathos and Oberon (Gargoyles), Anders (DA2), Yami Bakura (Yugi-oh, 4kids Production), King of All Cosmos (Katamari), Patches (Fromsoft), Ratagin (Great Mouse Detective), and the Six Fingered Man (Princess Bride). 

The five characteristics that we found amongst all of the babygirls we picked from various media were: being decidedly not wholesome, pathetic, emotionally unhinged and dastardly, but all in all containing some kind of charm. 

We went through and put all of our babygirls to the test with our system. The results were surprising, with Izzy Hands coming out decidedly less babygirl than we predicted and Ratagin being the epitome of babygirlness. 

What did these tests show about babygirlness on a whole? The spectrum ranges from morally good characters to bad, but all share a few common traits. However they express their vulnerabilities, either as completely unhinged or emotionally accessible, we as the audience are captivated and find “their weakness evocative”. Another aspect that is continuous through the spectrum of babygirlness, whether good or bad, is that a babygirl is secure in his masculinity however he chooses to express it. Babygirls on either end of the spectrum do end up having a “loving chokehold on their fandom”. Those people in the fandom are not necessarily of quantity, but of quality. Especially for the baby girls on the “bad” end of the spectrum. 

In conclusion a babygirl can be summed up as a fictional male character that is evocative in his vulnerability and at the same time confident in his masculinity regardless of his moral compass.

Co-Written with @robogart

THANK YOU FOR READING ALL THE WAY TO THE END OF THIS SILLY LITTLE ESSAY!

Please feel free to copy and paste the bad babygirl diagram and see where you babygirls fit!! I am excited to see your favorites!!

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Stepdad!Hopper x Reader • age gap (reader is 21, Hop’s in his 40’s)

Please read PART ONE first! 🥰

@honeylavender-323 @mrshopper84 @reidsbookcase @currently0bsessedwith

Ahead of him, Hopper saw Starcourt Mall, Hawkins’ new shopping and entertainment destination. A shiny beacon of fun in an otherwise dull little down, Starcourt had quickly become the hotspot for locals to hang out. An abundance of neon lighting adorned both the mall’s interior and exterior, bathing its halls and storefronts in a dreamlike glow.

While Starcourt wasn’t Hopper’s idea of a good time, he knew you liked the mall. So much that you were apparently meeting a boy there tonight. On a date, which, to Hopper’s knowledge, would be the first you’d ever had.

Since meeting (and marrying) your mother a couple of years ago, Hopper had wondered when you might begin dating. As his marriage to your mother deteriorated, Hopper realized his feelings for you were becoming inappropriate. Maybe he’d always been attracted to you in some way…but as you’d neared your twenty-first birthday, the sexual aspect of his marriage had all but disappeared. It was at this point that Hopper started fantasizing about you, taking a perverted interest in your body that racked him with guilt. But not enough to stop.

He’d sunk so deeply in his obsession that Hopper truly believed he’d fallen in love with you. Regardless of whether his feelings were actually motivated by love rather than lust, Hopper’s desire for you was real…so real, he feared it could lead to something he’d later regret for the rest of his life. If Hopper acted on his urges, it would not only destroy his marriage, but also any trust you had in him…

Hopper assumed you must view him as a father figure. He’d been the only stable, older male in your life for a long time. Hopper had no idea you wanted him as much as he wanted you…or that your ‘date,’ tonight was pure fiction, a lie you’d invented to test Hopper’s potential for jealousy. Your test had proven successful, far more successful than you’d imagined. Because when you’d pulled out of the driveway on your way to Starcourt, Hopper had discreetly followed, just far enough behind that you wouldn’t notice.

Upon entering the mall, Hopper checked the directory. Since the cinema was located on the upper floor, he made his way to the escalator and started up. The mall was exceptionally crowded that day, even for Starcourt. Hopper’s eyes scanned the many faces around him, seeking yours first and secondly, the face of the boy who’d somehow charmed you enough to secure himself as your first-ever date.

Your date being a lie wasn’t something Hopper suspected in any way. He genuinely needed to know, out of both a twisted jealousy and a desire to protect you, what this ‘boy from work,’ was like.

When he finally caught sight of you, a sense of relief washed over Hopper, followed by curiosity. You were alone. There were other people in the ticket line, of course…but notably, no one was standing with you, accompanying you. Hopper lingered far enough away from the cinema that you wouldn’t notice him. He leaned against a decorative pillar, the synthetic palm tree planted in front of him adding to his camouflage. Hopper lit a cigarette while watching you purchase a single ticket for yourself. He’d spent so long gazing at your lips, that reading them came easily. You were seeing Back to the Future; and therefore, Hopper was also.

When you disappeared from his view inside the cinema, Hopper took your place at the ticket window. He purchased admission to the movie, then lingered behind a group of people while you bought a soda and some popcorn from the concession stand. You checked your ticket, then looked up at the title displays to see which auditorium was showing your movie. You then headed down the left hallway, in the direction of auditorium three.

Now that Hopper knew which auditorium you would be seated in (he’d been too focused on you to check his own ticket for that information) he decided to hang back and take his time, finishing his cigarette while he waited. If he went inside too early, before the auditorium darkened and the show started, you’d surely see him. Hopper bought himself a pretzel, and kept an eye out for any young men who might potentially be your date. He put out his cigarette and finished his snack, then listened outside the auditorium to make sure the movie had started.

Satisfied that the room would be dark and noisy enough to avoid drawing attention to himself, Hopper made his way inside.

“Oh shit!” you cried, walking straight into Hopper’s chest. In an instant, his arms closed around you, instinctively protecting you. Even before realizing who you’d collided with, you recognized Hopper’s scent. You looked up at him with wide eyes and a confused expression. “Hopper?” you began. “What are you doing here??”

He tried to think of some way to explain, but couldn’t form a convincing lie quickly enough. Additionally, Hopper found it difficult to focus with you in his arms, a closeness that in the context of his feelings for you, seemed wildly inappropriate.

“I-uh…” Hopper stammered, before asking, “What are you doing? Why aren’t you in your seat-?”

“-I had to pee!” you snapped, prompting someone in the nearest row of seats to shout, “for god’s sake, keep it down over there, will ya??!!”

Hopper’s eyes glided over your breasts, pressed together against his chest. “Where’s Jack?” he whispered.

“Who??”

“Jack,” Hopper repeated, forcing his voice low. “Your date?”

Now it was your turn to improvise a lie. “He uh…I guess he’s not coming,” you shrugged, trying to play it off like nothing. Hopper huffed indignantly. “He stood you up??!” he asked, louder than he’d intended.

“Shh!!” the same cinema patron from before sneered.

“That ungrateful little shit,” Hopper grumbled, ignoring them. “He has the chance to go out with a perfect girl like you, and he fucks it up. Unbelievable. What a motherfucking-.”

“-Hopper!” you interrupted calmly, trying to cool his temper. “It’s okay, really! I didn’t like him that much, anyway.”

Hopper’s eyebrow lifted, along with his hopes. “You didn’t?”

A small grin shaped your lips. “Not really,” you replied. “Actually, he was kind of young for me, anyway. He was my age, and I really want a man who’s older...”

Hopper blinked a few times, before realizing he was still holding onto you. Loosening his grip, Hopper gave you the chance to back away; but you remained in his arms. He cleared his throat, feeling his heart rate kick up a few notches and his cock twitch against your stomach, much to his horror. God he hoped you wouldn’t notice.

“Ol-older?” he stammered. “I didn’t…I had no idea you liked older men.”

“Mm-hmm,” you replied, nodding sweetly, your tits squished wickedly against Hopper’s chest. “I do. There’s this one older man in particular, who I’ve liked for as long as I can remember, but…” You looked down, pretending to be shy. “…I’m not sure he likes me, too.”

Hopper swallowed, trying his damndest to lose his erection stiffening against you. “Well, uh, why don’t you tell him?” Hopper asked, his voice wavering. “This older guy, you know? Just-.” Hopper groaned, unable to help himself when you twisted slightly in his arms, adding pressure against his now-obvious hard-on. “-Just, tell him how you feel,” Hopper added. Suddenly, the annoyed audience member from before left his seat and approached you both. “Hey!” he whisper-shouted. “If you two can’t keep your goddamned mouthes shut, I’m getting security! We’re here to watch a movie, not listen to your fuckin’-.”

“-Relax, asshole,” Hopper retorted, removing his badge from his pocket and shoving it in the man’s face. “I’m the chief of police. I AM security.”

The man’s eyes went wide. “A call came into the station,” Hopper added, his voice full of authority. “Saying someone matching this young lady’s description was going on a shopping spree today, using counterfeit currency…” It took you a few seconds to catch on to the game Hopper was playing, but once you did, you decided to play along. “And I’d do it again, Chief,” you insisted defiantly, watching a look of shock fall over the other man’s face.

“…Well,” he said nervously, taking a step back. “It looks like you’ve got a real rebellious one on your hands here, Chief. I won’t stand in the way of official police business, sir.”

“Enjoy your fuckin’ movie,” Hopper spat sarcastically back at him. The man retreated to his seat, glancing back as if fearing you might commit a crime on the spot.

“You wanna get out of here?” Hopper asked.

“Yeah,” you grinned. “Let’s go.”

You exited the theater with a giddy little spring in your step…because Hopper’s hand was holding yours, walking you through the halls of Starcourt like it was nothing…but to you, it was everything. Just like a date, with the man of your dreams. And after the events of tonight, you were more convinced than ever that your dream was about to come true…

[jymwahuwu]

Absolutely devastated by the flood of hate you're getting, you only deserve the best (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ unfortunately, all I have to offer are these ideas rotting in my head...

JY reading fanfics about himself where the darling looks like you/fics about you where he can insert himself is an idea that has been haunting me. Once he has you as his beloved wife, maybe he'll test the accuracy of those stories.

Do you truly sob pathetically when he places a vibrator on your clit for hours upon end or do you succumb to your desires? Only one way to find out.

I honestly refuse to believe that this man doesn't have a folder titled "research" where it's just porn that he needs to test the accuracy of, regardless of which AU we're talking about. He's just a really dedicated guy.

Thank you Raku, you always show up in time to comfort me (つ´∀｀)つ And that...

CW: yandere, non-con (will happen in the future), imagine you and masturbate

Jing Yuan reads fan fiction in his free time. He knows that there are people from Xianzhou Luofu who like to read and write about them, and there are even authors from other planets/space civilizations. None of them had any idea that their fan fiction was being read, liked, and collected by the General himself. He will read them while he is in the warmth of his bed, holding his cell phone, and looking for readers with personality descriptions like yours.

He loves the way you describe being ravaged or destroyed by him so gently… and always in all kinds of creative ways. Imagine him on top of you, penetrating you deeply with his cock, or tongue-kissing you passionately. Mating press and oral sex both sound great. Jing Yuan released the painfully hard cock in his crotch and stroked himself, moaning softly. It's a shame it needed to be this way before he got you. One thing these fan fictions describe accurately - he is indeed a virgin and has not been in love for over seven hundred years. He needs to do some research, for you.

And Jing Yuan learned something new - if the general put a vibrator on your clitoris, would you really whimper and squirt pitifully? ("P-please put it down!! I can't-take any more-") The final mess? He actually kind of wanted to put a few more in there. Or will those lactation potions help? He thought there should be side effects. Maybe getting you pregnant would be the perfect way. He learned how to tie you to the bed. Also bought the collars and ropes described in the novels, and even cute kitten bells!!

Jing Yuan has specially categorized bookmarks and study folders, in which you can be any profession!! He just imagined the readers and protagonists to look like you. Although he has been single for seven hundred years (and has yet to form a romantic relationship with you), the General is curious and capable of learning, and is always ready for you.

He knows he can try each of these on you after the wedding and record your reactions. He looks forward to a sweet life.

[moonbaby26]

Title: Past Wounds

(Chapter 12 of Doflamingo’s Marine Series)

*Crossposted to AO3 Here*

Chapter Pairings: Doflamingo x Reader

Chapter Warnings: language, violence, toxic relationship, binge drinking, mommy issues, brief references to past trauma and survival from past sexual assault including when characters were previously underage, talk of virginity loss, intentions to sabotage birth control, breeding kink, murder (not main characters)

Chapter Synopsis: As you and Doflamingo open up to one another, you find even more in common in the traumas of your pasts. While he still plans for the future, intending to never have you truly leave him or your new kingdom of Dressrosa again.

Author’s notes: As evidenced by chapter warnings above, there are a lot of potential triggers in this chapter. Nothing is overly gratuitous in my opinion. But still, fair warning. I always let the characters run the show for what they’ll say/do next and this was the result. More notes are at the end of the chapter as well including some insight into future plans for this story. 😄

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

——————————

—————————— 

As Doflamingo had recounted to you those bits and pieces of his time spent with Tsuru as a boy, of course you’d sat in silence, listening intently. But even with the seemingly unflattering details he did allow, you felt like that curtain between you and his past was only being pulled back just enough to tease towards the bigger mystery. 

Like a single flash of lightning across a dark and unfamiliar room. The parts he did tell would only let you make out some hints of shapes, pieces of him you’d never known. Before everything was plunged into darkness once more. 

But telling you even this much did stir deeper things within that darkness for him at least. That was obvious in his many pauses as he spoke, and by just how quickly the wine disappeared the further his story went on. 

He’d finished the first bottle in his hand before his strings had brought the second bottle to him and into the bed as well.

But regardless of his height, and the additional body mass that offered him, you started to realize even warlords had a limit. It was still too much, too fast for his body to put it away safely.

And he was self medicating. Wasn’t he?

“Doffy,” you did say in test after he’d quieted for a few more minutes.

He wasn’t smiling any longer, and his eyes didn’t move from you. “She left me there.”

And something warned you then. It was in the way his shoulders sank, but his muscles didn’t relax. 

He didn’t want logic or reasoning right now. He didn’t want you to say that Tsuru had had no real choice but to desert him. 

And desertion was absolutely how he saw it. That sentiment made further clear in the dangerous irritation which rose in his next words.

“But Rosi was good enough. You white coats took him from me as soon as you fucking could…and wasn’t he too young? He was younger than me! So why? Why was he better…no, he wasn’t.”

It did take you a moment to even realize who Doflamingo meant, even as you began growing more nervous as he seemingly argued with himself as much as anything.

Was he talking about Rosinante?

Codename Corazon was what you’d actually known him as. Tsuru had sometimes called him Rosinante though. Which that bit of familiarity finally made more sense if only tonight.

Because she’d met both brothers before they’d ever become criminals.

But you still weren’t following this new turn. How had the marines taken Doflamingo’s brother? Corazon had been killed a few years ago. All over a stupid devil fruit sale gone bad as far as you knew. The Donquixote family versus the Barrels pirates at Minion Island.

You’d been there that night as well, on Tsuru’s crew to pick up the pieces afterward. You’d seen the bird cage just before it came down…and the bodies that’d been left in the aftermath.

But this new confusion in your eyes only had Doflamingo leaning forward aggressively. You could see the added flush in his cheeks from all that wine as he closed in on you.

And for the briefest moment you’d envisioned one of those now empty wine bottles being smashed open against your face. 

Because you somehow knew that he had considered it.

But then those same bottles only rolled aside with his movement within the bed. His words were slightly slurred the faster he tried to force them out.

The more he tried to make you understand that pain that no alcohol could ever quench.

“They turned my own baby brother against me….he hated me.” 

The warlord’s lips were the only thing that met your face this time though. Not a fist, or the bottles, even as that kiss still held so much anger from within.

Doflamingo’s hand was tight on the back of your neck so quickly too, forcing you to him as his tongue and that secondhand taste of alcohol filled your mouth.

He was actually drunk tonight. And it was your job once more to prevent yourself from being further hurt.

“Doffy,” You said more insistently again, briefly breaking your mouths apart.

Yet you weren’t bleeding like before. So this allowed you at least a chance to try softness first. Even if it wasn’t organic at all. Even if every move you made was now purposeful as you brought your hands up to stroke his face before your mouths could reconnect.

His left eye did close at that sudden touch, his lips still parted as the bright red iris of the right eye focused on you cautiously.

“You’re okay.” You found yourself saying regardless as you petted this dangerous creature.

His muscles were still so tight, his breath a bit uneven as you stroked along those high cheekbones and up into that short blond hair.

But there was the slightest hope for you in the way he’d started to press his face into that touch after a few more moments. He didn’t want you to stop.

It wasn’t over yet though. It’d never be, when suddenly he’d next pushed his full weight against you. You were forced onto your back on the mattress. This behavior already seeming to follow the pattern of so many times before as your core couldn’t help but immediately tense, fearing penetration.

Yet he didn’t straddle you this time. His legs curled up instead, allowing him the room to lay down. Your head now by the foot of the bed, and both your and his feet nearer the headboard as he laid his face across your naked breasts.

In your surprise, his hand also caught your wrist, pulling your own palm back to the side of his cheek as he bid you to keep petting him again in this new position.

And so of course you did. Having to breathe a little more forcefully with his weight on you then. But it wasn’t that painful. You weren’t being fucked this time at least as you watched the ceiling while stroking his jaw before your fingers moved back into his hairline as you massaged his scalp lightly.

You weren’t stupid. The parallels were all far more obvious now. His biological mother had died early on in his life. And in his own mind at least, he’d reclaimed some semblance of that motherly bond when he’d met Tsuru. But then she’d left him too, and his father had died, and his brother eventually too. Those full details still unclear in his odd behavior surrounding their two names.

But no matter the hows or whys, he had lost one family member after another. It was hit after hit on an already troubled psyche to further grow that void inside of him wasn’t it?

And needy boys soon became needy men. 

So he was burying all that desperation in you now, no question there. And before you, whoever else he could get his claws into you were sure. But for your own sanity, you would have to believe that everything he felt for Tsuru was still more from the boy within and not the hedonistic man that’d now torn through your body multiple times.

She’d have washed him into pieces if he’d ever tried anything inappropriate with her you were sure.

But with you? Those lines were already long gone. Clearly they were as he kept his face warm against your chest. Like it truly were an innocent refuge for him in this moment, but at the very same time you felt his already half hard cock rubbing against your legs.

He didn’t do anything more with that arousal right now at least. But his confused body didn’t seem to know the difference between affection and sex either.

Sex was affection to him. It was comfort. And evidently he sometimes wanted to be mothered by you as well, just as much as he wanted to always keep fucking you.

But the most immediate danger was again passing as you continued to give him what he wanted. You felt his muscles finally relaxing. All while you petted him more like something pitiful that had to be taken care of, rather than a true lover or equal partner in this instance at least.

Psychologists could fill entire books on a case study like Doflamingo you were sure.

And he wasn’t even done yet.

“Don’t leave me too.”

You heard those new drunken words break the silence. But you feared truly acknowledging them and possibly setting him off again as you just kept holding him. You stroked his face and down his neck to keep him calm.

Your heart rate was increasing regardless though as his arms tightened around your waist in return. His possessive body language was beginning all over again. But he said only one more heavy thing before closing both of his eyes.

“….don’t make me do it again. Don’t make me erase another light like you.”

——————————

That night felt endless. He had fallen asleep against your chest. So you’d been spared whatever sexual play he’d threatened from earlier, before he’d first started that story and gotten far too much into the wine.

But in exchange, you were left with a restless, fitful animal. Even though he was deeply asleep, you still felt him tensing and moving so many times during the night.

Sweat would form on his brow as his hands would clench. Sometimes with those fingers against your hips, or your arms, stomach, or elsewhere as he shifted around.

He was having nightmares.

And you couldn’t hope to sleep, your own body on high alert, waiting for strings to come out of his fingertips, waiting for pain if he forgot even for a moment where he really was.

Yet when he’d start moving again like that, you’d whisper his name and start stroking his head and neck once more. 

His grimace would fade, and he’d start to still again.

It was exhausting. Like fighting a fire all alone the entire night. Fighting it, and protecting him when your own body and mind wanted so badly to give up as well.

And at some point you did. You didn’t have any endurance left when consciousness finally slipped away. But you’d already seen the sunlight through those portholes again when it did.

——————————

His head was aching. But warm fingers were caught in his hair. The sound of your heartbeat was against his ear as he tried to focus his good eye into that too bright daylight.

It was fucking morning again already. But he didn’t want to move. Your chest was soft, and your grip was still so welcoming somehow.

How much had he told you last night?

Those dreams had melted into the real words he knew he’d said. But it was hard to remember the difference, where one ended and the other began. 

He’d tried to save himself all those years ago. He’d tried to do the right thing for what was left of his family. 

Because Mariejois would never suffer a traitor. Blood traitors especially. The most grievous crime that could ever be committed against the gods was when one Celestial Dragon turned against another.

Death was the only possible result in such a rare tragedy. But Homing and Rosinante both had still chosen that fate in the end. His own blood had given him no choice but to carry out the only answer they knew would come for their crimes.

They’d chosen your licentious world instead of their heavenly birthright and had to be culled for it. Like diseased branches being cut away to save the larger tree.

And then he’d been fully orphaned, broken wings and all, stuck living alone in that same world in the end. But he was still carving out the best life he could in the circumstances. 

He’d already retaken the Donquixote ancestral lands in Dressrosa. Retaken his heritage in the same castle his ancestors used to rule without mercy from. 

And now he’d secured you, the elusive temptation that had evaded him for far too long beforehand. Of course you were no equal to him. The innate filth of your own blood was still something that could never be overwritten. But the gods were able to claim anything lesser than themselves that they desired. 

So there was nothing improper in his need for you. Nothing he wouldn’t have still been allowed if he’d lived atop the world once more. He could have had as many human wives as he’d wanted. Bred all of them or none of them as he’d seen fit.

There were many half breed children in Mariejois. Most going straight into slavery of course, but not always. Pets were allowed too. They’d never hold the social status of a pureblood, but they could live a fully pampered life if their Celestial parent chose such for them. They could stay in the same home, be lavished and given affection like any other treasured possession.

And all this stress only reminded him of these possibilities time and time again.

He still wanted a replacement family for his that had been destroyed. He wanted you, his human mistress, and his half breed he could soon raise from you. He never wanted to feel as alone as he had in those nightmares ever again.

Doflamingo smirked, your heart beating so steadily beneath him still. That organ beat for only him, it belonged to him already.

But would you ever love him in return? Would you be grateful in the life he could provide for you? Would you understand how lucky you were to find this rare mercy within him at all?

It didn’t matter.

As long as he had what he wanted. As long as he always won and everyone else lost.

That was the natural way of things. And anyone who acted to truly interrupt these eventual outcomes could join Homing and Rosinante in his forgiveness of death. 

He’d actually let you sleep though, as he’d finally untethered himself from your body. His bladder full from all the drinking of last night and his body needing relief as he’d taken the longest piss in the bathroom.

This vacation was finally over. All the meetings and business dealings he’d put off for the last few days to spend that time with you instead was now going to bite back at him in full force.

He knew this as he’d flushed the toilet and looked at himself in the mirror, knowing he needed to get ready to head to his office on board and start making overdue calls. But his mind still lingered in the past, even then.

Because his one intact eye that often reminded him of his mother’s perpetually sad ones reflected back at him tiredly in that mirror. 

But the other eye was somehow sharp as always, even behind that milky white of scar tissue. As if it was watching him instead. The mismatched eye he’d been born with even before that arrow had first pierced it in this world.

The left eye and its larger red iris that used to frighten his peers and reject the sunlight enough that he’d been taught to cover it as far back as he could remember.

His one eye that matched the two of the one true god. The immortal who sat upon the empty throne. A being that he’d seen only once, when he’d brought Homing’s head to them in that last chance offering which was ultimately rejected. A past recipient of the Ope-Ope fruit’s greatest power he had no doubt.

Another ancestor of his perhaps, one whose eye and madness he had inherited. The nineteen original families of Mariejois had interbred for centuries after all.

But Doflamingo just laughed softly to himself, gripping the sink before he turned the water on to wet his hands and begin washing his face.

There was still so much that none of you knew. Information which those who sat on high would do anything to keep from spreading. 

It was yet another reason you’d never be allowed to leave him once they realized how serious he was about you. Because those five old men and the monster they served would assume he’d shared all their secrets. And they’d surely kill you rather than give you any chance to talk if you ever fled from him and lost his protection.

Divorce would never be an option for you. It truly would be until death do you part.

——————————

You rolled over, and something about even being able to do that much was enough to finally wake you again. Because you weren’t trapped under him anymore.

Raising your head, you looked around, groggy and concern quickly growing on your face. Because you didn’t see him anywhere.

And as you’d experienced before, not seeing him was always worse to you. Because then you didn’t know his current mood, or his intentions. You had no sense of the current danger.

Slowly you sat up, bedsheets falling away from your nude form.

The sun was fully in the room. It was obviously later in the day.

There was a tray beside the bed. The same one that dinner had been served on last night. But all that was now gone. 

A new plate was there. It looked like toasted bread. But with crushed tomatoes over it. Some had already been eaten, but there was plenty left.

You rose up carefully, peering into the drink pitcher beside it. Some kind of brightly colored juice was in the pitcher.

It should have been laughable of how cautious you really still were.

How afraid you were to do something as simple as eat when behind enemy lines like this. Pirates had prepared this food. They had readied this drink you had to remind yourself.

But only then did you notice a piece of paper, laid flat with its corner hanging out from under the pitcher on that silver food tray.

And when you slid that paper out, your very first reaction was to immediately be taken aback by the immaculate penmanship.

The only time you’d seen something like this was on decrees direct from Mariejois. It made the hurried writing you were more accustomed to in documented naval transmissions look like something you all had written with your feet by comparison.

Like this was a page fallen out of a book. But it wasn’t as you finally started to read it.

“I must have kept you up last night. That’s what happens when you let me drink too much, Captain. I considered leaving a string man to keep you company, but it would have been too boring just to watch you sleep.

We’ll be in Dressrosa by this afternoon. Clean yourself up and be presentable. Use my snail on the end table to summon anything you may need from the servants. I have work obligations. I wouldn’t recommend wandering the ship alone however. I wouldn’t want you to get your hands dirty again. My travel crew doesn’t have the best manners after all. I’ll come back to you when we’re nearer port.

-D.D.”

And you held that paper for a while afterward, just entranced in the sheer novelty of it. He had truly beautiful handwriting, and he’d taken the time to write it for you.

It was the stupidest thing you’d likely ever felt. But you realized no man had ever written you a personal note for any reason.

“What the fuck is wrong with me?” You said to no one but the sleeping snails. And then you did grab one of those pieces of bread off the food tray and took a bite of it in test. 

And it was delicious. Because of course it was. With olive oil and garlic mixed in with some other seasonings you were too uncultured to identify in those crushed tomatoes smeared across it.

With the bread in one hand, you folded that note from Doflamingo gently with your other. 

For some reason you didn’t want to get any food on it. And you didn’t want to throw it away either.

Just like him, it was insidious in how you kept thinking about it now. How you wanted to keep it.

How much you liked it.

——————————

The hours ran by so quickly. Just like he knew they would. He’d been on the phone with nobility from other kingdoms, with Cipher Pol agents, with pirate captains, and warmongers of all kinds. All his customers itching for their next arms, drugs, or random pick of any other contraband shipments that they’d been requesting which his networks were currently brokering for them.

It’d been interesting which clients dared to mention anything about the newspaper articles as well. Not all would, with his Joker identity and his public status as a warlord and king existing as two wholly separate things.

But of course there was one particular call that had everything to do with you. 

Doflamingo had had his feet up on his desk by then, one ankle crossed over the other as he waited while it rang.

That cackling scientist knew better than to ignore a call from him. No matter what he may be working on with Vegapunk currently.

The transponder snail did connect at last. But the voice on the other end sounded far quieter than normal.

“J-Joker?” Came the question.

“Of course.” Doflamingo answered, but asking immediately. “Are you alone?”

“Alone enough. In a supply closet actually…” was the ridiculous answer. 

A response the warlord knew was likely not at all a joke. What an idiot this was. But an extremely useful one. “Well, Caesar, I need to commission you for what should be something far more simple this time. Something I need immediately.”

Tight timelines were nothing new. The majority of the current drugs and war worthy poisons that Doflamingo sold all linked back to this growing business relationship with Caesar Clown. 

Caesar and his constant need to prove himself superior to his official government boss, Dr. Vegapunk by any means necessary. Caesar also with his perfect combination of immorality, greed, and spinelessness to be used so well by a man like Doflamingo. 

“Yes, of course, Joker.” The near salivation of what kind of new payday this would mean for him was all too evident.

The gas logia user loved his new patron’s very deep pockets. And Doflamingo was certainly willing to provide, given that the results remained what he fully wanted of course.

“I need a new drug. This won’t be a mass product though. This is going to be for personal use alone.”

There was a noise of interest at that of course. They all knew Doflamingo didn’t normally use his own supply of anything. Normally being the key word however. There were always exceptions.

And he just outright said it now. Because once the Heavenly Demon had made up his mind on something, it’s not like he’d have any further hesitation. “I’m in the market for a family actually. I assume you saw the papers.”

Silence hung for a moment. The cogs spinning no doubt. “Shurororo...” Came the odd, and bit nervous laugh. “I did, and that was a surprise. So bold of you, going after an enlisted woman…the marines must be scrambling.”

“They can waste their time all they want. It’s real.” Doflamingo said decisively. “I’m keeping her. But she may not be fully on the same page with all of that yet. But you know me…results are king. And I want to get down to business. I want a child with her. But I need a way around that standard marine issue contraceptive. I want to override it.”

“Oh my.” Caesar was truly caught off guard, but not for the underhandedness of course. The snail had an outright wicked smile then from the scientist. One that could have rivaled one of Doflamingo’s own. “Has baby fever struck in that oppressively hot country of yours? Though, all dynasties must start somewhere I suppose. So you’ll be wanting at least an heir and a spare then?”

“Just one to start.” Doflamingo corrected, though beginning to grin a bit himself. “Quality over quantity.”

“Of course.” Caesar quickly agreed in that overly subservient way of his, but clearly still so interested. His own sadistic nature was likely highly delighted in it all. “How much modification though? I’m sure you’re aware of the kind of things I’m capable of improving on. Vinsmoke was hardly the only one at the pinnacle of that foray into eugenics. I could design circles around that fool.”

And here was the thing Doflamingo knew he had to be firm on. “Vinsmoke’s wife also ended up dead and his children little more than machines. My blood won’t be wasted in such a bland result. Nor does it need such improvement.” His voice did darken too, letting his seriousness on this point be most known. “No permanent damage to the woman either. If there was, your own death would be something I’d make you pray for, Caesar.”

It was a bit more complicated than just being able to do a clean execution of this scientist if it came down to it of course. Because they had other projects in the works that absolutely needed Caesar. The one still pending with Kaidou chief among them. But there were some things worse than death, and everyone knew Doflamingo could absolutely deliver on a threat like that if pressed.

And Caesar did stutter a little at that. The message was clearly understood. “Y-Yes, Joker. A low risk pregnancy then, of course. But might I recommend at least a little added insurance against common toxins, and a bit of extra hardiness at least?” Poisons being one of Caesar’s specialties of course. “Assuming she will be the last to know of her, ah…condition. Smoking, drinking, all those fun things you know would probably not be well advised, could have countermeasures put in place. And marines do brawl a bit at times, don’t they?”

“Fair point.” He did want you to be the last to possibly know. Because as strong willed as you  were, he had the real concern that you’d try to sabotage things yourself once aware. He couldn’t say for sure, but it was possible. “Is that doable? Just enough to make sure it thrives even if the host decides to disagree?” Doflamingo asked genuinely.

“Oh, very much.” And at that Caesar recounted the specifications as if they were talking about nothing more questionable than a grocery list. “So you aren’t interested in twins or any multiples, just the facilitation of a single ovum being released. And the only modification being what would be required for healthy development in a possible unideal environment…if the mother is still out bar hopping and roughhousing or whatever I imagine marines must all do.”

“She roughhouses enough with me, yes.” Doflamingo conceded with another smile. “But she’s no delicate flower. We both get rather hands on, and into the drink together.”

And Caesar chuckled again. “Shurororo…I can make that work. It’s just canceling out the hormones of the contraceptive and then adding in a few other factors for those modifications…and different hormones to force ovulation too as it sounds like you’re in quite a hurry. Otherwise it’d be a small window each month naturally. I can make a fixed window instead so you know exactly when the timing is right.”

“And no permanent side effects.” Doflamingo reminded. “Or you know what will happen to you.”

“Yes, Joker.” He could hear Caesar swallow even over the snail. “I’m so much better than Vinsmoke though. No need for concern, really. It would likely be nothing more than fatigue and cramping. No worse than their monthly cycles.”

“Then do it. Put it in something clear and tasteless. I’ll have your normal development and rush fees wired over to you by tonight. I want it delivered directly to me.”

——————————

There was no knock on the door. No warning at all as it just swung open. Which of course, it was his cabin. 

But that didn’t mean you didn’t startle all the same. For someone so large not to be heard coming down the hallway, that was bothersome.

That pink mass of feathers moved into the room as the door shut behind him.

Doflamingo stared at you for a moment, or you assumed that he was. It was hard to tell with the sunglasses back over his eyes before he smirked.

“Not a bad sight to have waiting on my bed after a long day.” He murmured, approaching you where you now sat fully dressed on the edge of his mattress.

And he crouched before you could reply to him. Squatted in front of you suddenly when he leaned in for a kiss.

It was a bit rough as his lips met yours, but nothing extreme this time as he smiled afterward, faces still almost touching as his tongue dipped out briefly.

He looked more than satisfied.

“You probably felt us turning, Dressrosa’s on the horizon already. We’re heading for the south port in Acacia.” 

“Alright.” You said plainly. It wasn’t as if there was anything else you could do. You’d cleaned up, dressed, even put makeup on to cover the bruising.

“Let’s change the bandage again.” He said though. “How long are you going to be able to walk for?”

And at least this process you’d done more than once now as you offered him your thigh. “Won’t really know until I try. But you are not carrying me in front of any cameras.”

He actually feigned a bit of a scowl there. Far less intense than his real ones as he started undoing the string wrap again from around your leg. The cords obeyed him so completely, white and soft as it unravelled to the floor. “Oh, but you’re forgetting where you are now, dear. I’m the king of the literal country of love and passion. It’d look very chivalrous on tomorrow’s front page wouldn’t it?”

“It’d make me look weak.” You gave him a real look of distaste in return.

“Then at least damn take something for the pain you stubborn brat.” But he was smirking then. Too happy in this moment finally being here you were sure. He’d brought you home with him at last.

All the advantage was now his as well. You were about to be in his country, with his crew, among his everything. You would have no power here save for whatever his extremely limited mercy allowed and you both knew it.

“I’m not drugging myself up on painkillers when I’m about to be in the same room as Trebol and Diamante.” You said with added certainty there.

Doflamingo’s hands did pause at that in the midst of rewrapping your wounded thigh as he asked, “Why?”

“Why?” And you did look at him there like he had two heads. “You know why!”

Somehow it had always been them. The only Donquixote officers that could ever get close enough to you. Trebol and his stupid snot that you’d gotten your legs caught in before. And Diamante with weapons that rained down like confetti, cutting you through even your haki as he’d grabbed you with his bare hands more than once.

Diamante had been the one that had scared you the most though. Because by all rights he’d really had you that one time. Before your coat had torn at the last moment. Somehow you had slipped right out of it and run for all you were worth, bleeding and with a badly dislocated arm all the way back to Tsuru.

You couldn’t have been more than sixteen then and it had thoroughly shaken you. Even for all the abuse you’d known as a child. All the aggression and beatings you’d had before when you hadn’t submitted like your mother’s bosses had wanted you to. None of that was the same as Diamante had been with you then.

Because you’d seen it in his eyes and felt it in the horrible things he’d said to you as his hands had gone places they should not have. 

Your first real brush with that level of opponent, both in physical strength and his ability to truly get within your head.

Maybe it was idiotic to still be holding onto that, considering the far worse things the man right here in front of you had done since.

But it was still different. Somehow it was. Bleeding, being grabbed and touched by Diamante with your arm almost twisted out of its socket at only sixteen. Versus being jaded and angry, several years older and stronger with a sexual appetite of your own by the time Doflamingo had first pushed himself between your legs in Mariejois.

It wasn’t the same in your mind, right or wrong as Doflamingo still watched you, as he did finish the new bandage.

“You’re still afraid of them?” He asked simply. And you really couldn’t read him well at all then, in his body language or tone.

You looked away from those red sunglasses before you could help it though. Dammit, this was not the right time for this, not minutes before your supposed public debut in Dressrosa.

“You wouldn’t understand.” You replied.

“Try me.” He said as his hands went onto your knees. 

He was still squatted in front of you.

And he must have seen some look on your face, something different there that he wouldn’t let go of.

But you still couldn’t say it. Just like you’d never told anyone the full extent of what Doflamingo had done to you in Mariejois or on Sabaody.

And at last you saw real irritation cut across his expression when he got tired of waiting. “I’m not asking you twice.” His grip on your knees tightened as he spread them a little. Just enough to move his torso between them.

You took a breath, fear edging you back to the present and to him. Fine, you’d just goddamn say it then.

And those words did come running out, just everything at once. It was either all or nothing it seemed when it came to admissions like this. 

“I don’t even remember what town it was. But Trebol got a hold of my feet with that mucus to slow me down. I should never have tried to take them both on by myself. I knew better, but you know how fast things can go sideways in the field. They had me alone and then my boots were in that snot, and I was trying to get out and Diamante was fucking right on top of me. He was hitting me with so much I couldn’t keep my haki up. So I was bleeding and they were trying to get into my head. Saying I was just a whore and laughing to each other about if I was a virgin or not…and then Diamante said he’d check.”

You heard a sound in Doflamingo’s throat. And you quieted as his face abruptly touched against yours. But he didn’t kiss you. His hands which had been squeezing your knees now relaxed as he began to stroke your thighs.

And you didn’t know what reaction you’d expected from him. But this was not it as you’d let Doflamingo lean further into you.

“How much did Diamante touch you?” Came the next quiet, but equally firm question.

Which you did make yourself answer once more. Because you didn’t want him to turn on you again. And even as humiliating as this all was, you tried to stay only with the facts, not the dark emotions they inspired.

“It was one hand under my skirt, a finger between my legs. And one hand in my shirt, under my bra. But I twisted away from him. Then he grabbed and dislocated my arm at the shoulder and my coat tore. Somehow I came right out of that coat. I broke out of the mucus with the last haki I could make, and I ran away from the both of them. I escaped.”

“Did he push that finger inside of you?” Doflamingo asked so specifically then. Almost as if this was what was truly important in it all to him. 

And you felt your stomach turn, disgusting as it was. You did not like acknowledging any of it, but you still answered with the warlord’s face nuzzled oddly into yours all the while.

“No. His finger was just feeling me on the outside. He was about to I guess. Before I pulled away.”

And maybe there was the slightest hint of relief in the way Doflamingo’s back muscles relaxed at that revelation. But even that still wasn’t enough. As he did have another very personal question for you.

“How old were you really when you lost your virginity then?”

And fuck, why did it even matter at this point? But maybe this was his way of striking when the iron was already hot so to speak. He had you vulnerable enough right now to tell him the truth, and he never missed an opportunity did he?

“Eighteen.” You said simply.

“Consensual?” 

“Yes.”

He pulled back slightly, and you felt that stare on you again. There was no smile at all. “It was Kuzan…wasn’t it?”

“Yes.” And you felt your face muscles tighten once more. You knew how insanely jealous Doflamingo could be. So that nervousness peaked within you all over again. You didn’t want to fight.

But his anger didn’t come. At least not in the way you would have expected. You saw his own face shift strangely as a smile formed instead. But it wasn’t like his normal ones at all.

“Well, I was only fifteen when I lost mine.” He said from nowhere as your eyes widened. “And it absolutely was not consensual.” 

But at least a little like you then, it was like those words couldn’t stop once he’d let them out. Even as his smile began to grow. That expression contrasted the brief strain in his voice.

“It was a fucking powerhouse of a man. He could have just snapped my neck then and there with one hand. But I’d killed his whole crew to take his territory from him. So he was going to make me pay in spades of course. I’d never had sea prism cuffs on before or since. I didn’t know how to fight very well then. And certainly not with my devil fruit taken away once he got those cuffs on me. Even my haki was nothing to him then, he was just that angry. I’ll never forget…the smell of that. The sweat and the hate, getting fucked, bent over a crate in some sweltering warehouse. And you know who pulled him off of me and beat him to goddamn death right then and there for all of his trouble?”

And Doflamingo actually laughed, loud and long then, as if that was the far better part of that violent memory.

But the horror in your own face couldn’t be matched, not at all as you already knew what he was going to say next before the names came out of his mouth.

“Trebol and Diamante.” He grinned, his sunglasses still blocking his eyes from you. Not showing his true self in any of this. “They heard it and they found us before anyone else.” 

And you were blinking back tears by then, something he surely saw in your own eyes as he did kiss you suddenly again to stop it.

But had he told you this as his own way of showing you weren’t alone in the things you’d experienced against your will? Or was it just to prove the complicated nature of the monsters he surrounded himself with? Your attackers were his rescuers.

Or…could even something as devastating as that be a memory he would willfully use to garner your sympathy? As another manipulation to make you pity him? Surely not…

And yet he was grinning fully once he broke that kiss with you again, watching you like your reaction was so much more important than his in all of this.

And your heart was torn, finding these stories all still the seeds of nightmares, no matter the motivation. And you didn’t want to let go of him either. Not at all as you again remembered that cowering response he’d shown you if only for that moment the other day as well.

You knew he couldn’t have faked that, not the reflex from when you’d hit him. And all the movements last night as those nightmares had torn through him when he was drunk.

That wasn’t fake either.

That was wholly real.

And yet Doflamingo did so easily unto others what had once been done to him, didn’t he? It didn’t change what he was at all. He’d held you down and forced his cock into you more than once now. Even when you cried, even if you screamed.

He was still so unpredictable. Even as he was starting to show you all the roots from which this evil had grown from.

He stole another long kiss from you though, as if he knew. As if he knew you were overthinking what he didn’t want you to and his hand moved up to stroke the side of your face before he finally pulled back away.

“My crew won’t hurt you again. That’s all you need to know. And I’m ordering you to report it to me if they do. Because nothing happens in Dressrosa without my permission. Understood?”

“Yes.” You said so simply. Yet inhaling though, fighting to draw those emotions back in regardless.

He didn’t seem rattled at all either now in comparison to you, as he finally stood and offered you his hand. “But let’s go. Everyone’s going to want to meet you. This is a big day for the future of our monarchy after all.”

—————————

And you had shaken that pain away as much as you could. You both falling back into your public personas. Everything was a careful production in times like this, that was certain as the two of you had released the grip on each other’s hands just before exiting up the stairs and onto the deck.

He let you walk yourself then. At least seeming to be in agreement there that neither of you wanted to portray you as overly weak or too injured in the public eye. 

And of course his crew had already been lined up and ready, all staring at you as if you were still some mysterious creature who clearly did not belong amongst them.

You could only imagine the rumors rolling through the ship. Being that you’d never left their captain’s cabin a single time while at sea. And all the bloody sheets the servants had had to find and launder.

But you ignored their looks now. Your attention fully going to your first views of what would be your new home for an indefinite future.

The island nation of Dressrosa.

Mooring ropes were being cast out to the dock workers below as the large ship began the process of lining up against it.

You couldn’t see much yet though. Just as you’d heard, Dressrosa was difficult to appreciate from a distance.

A circular island fully surrounded by a massive cliff face of light brown, almost yellowish rock which now towered above the ship. Only the smallest slit had been cut into this natural fortress to accommodate the port entrance. Such a narrow view as you tried to look at the multicolored rooftops you could see just a hint of in that distance beyond.

Of course, the other thing that could not be ignored was the crowd which had gathered, fully awaiting the unloading of Doflamingo’s ship.

And he was back behind you then, just as you’d noticed the flashes of cameras in the distance. 

“Welcome home, love.” That dark voice whispered near your ear once more as he’d bent briefly down. “Just follow my lead once we’re on the ground. They’re very excited today…so keep your head up and stay moving. We’re heading straight for the palace.”

——————————

There was that briefest bit of nostalgia for Doflamingo as his foot soldiers kept the walkway open, parting the crowd for the two of you when you’d first set foot onto these public docks.

It wasn’t so long ago after all when these very same peasants had been shouting his name alone in adulation for their new king. 

But now they wanted to know firsthand if all the reports and speculation of his new interest were true.

In this, the kingdom of love and passion, its citizens were falling over themselves to get their first real looks at you. The woman who their most eligible bachelor and king had now expressed a public fondness for.

But as the king’s plateau and his palace atop it would soon be coming into view, he shifted on his feet, just enough to bump you with his hip as you both still walked. 

The abrupt touch did have you looking up at him reflexively. Just like he wanted you to of course as he smiled down at you and another camera flashed.

That was going to be a good picture.

But over the shouts of those reporters and the crowd, they weren’t going to hear what he said to you either. 

“You only get to see your new kingdom for the first time, one time, darling. Are you paying attention?”

——————————

And of course you were. But there were so many other stimuli to consider too. You knew even now you were the marines’ sole representation on this island. So you tried to stay professional, walking without a limp in your uniform despite the pain. And not too entranced in any new sight or bothered by all the attention.

The thing you were finding most distracting though were these little things jumping around near everyone’s legs.

You knew what they were, but you’d never seen them in person. Especially when some small metal dog ran out nearly underfoot. Barking artificially with its metallic shine of purple polka dots before a girl grabbed it up to reclaim it, giggling bashfully at you all the while.

The living toys of Dressrosa is what they were, seemingly ubiquitous in their dispersal throughout the crowd. Each and every toy that you’d noticed was unique as well. Oddly cute in their own ways, but still strange as they begged for recognition from their human masters.

You didn’t know if they were fully mechanical, or perhaps it was something more akin to the homies of Totto Land in Big Mom’s territory? If they contained even a piece of someone’s soul that would be far more disconcerting to you. As far as whose piece it was and if there had been full consent to make them. 

Either way, it was certainly strange and something you’d be wanting to learn more about in the future. But everything would be similar in that regard right now. All new and your mind not really knowing where to start before that massive landmass and Doflamingo’s main residence itself were then above you. 

—————————

“My officers are waiting for us in the Hall of Suits. I called them earlier to know when to expect us.” He’d spoken to you again as the lift doors had closed to bring you both up through the king’s plateau via the elevator. To him, it was a novelty to have to enter his own palace through the street level like this.

Normally he’d be coming either from the hidden underground port late at night, or just through one of the windows straight into his office or bedroom at the top levels if he really had been out in the city or beyond alone for some reason.

Which he’d absolutely be bringing you out there for a private tour of the island at some point. At least the public portions of it anyway. Secrets would have to come later. He knew you were too intelligent to be kept in the dark for very long. But he needed far more safeguards in place before you could learn too much.

Those real reasons he and Dressrosa both had become so much wealthier just in the two years he’d now run things here. The revelations would come in time. But when they did, he’d already promised himself that you’d have a ring on your finger and a baby in your arms. Because then you’d have no way to leave him without losing your life or the child’s. He’d make any other options of true escape impossible for you.

That was the primary reason for his urgency on that call with Caesar today. Because he did hear that clock ticking in his head. Tsuru would be coming soon. So every potential weapon he had, had to be used and it had to be now. He wasn’t going to come this far just to lose you so soon.

And it truly should be unholy, how easily he was still able to offer you a warmer smile even as these thoughts rattled in his head.

You had looked up at him then, and the need for closeness overcame him as he took your hand again. The reporters had been left outside. It was only his foot soldiers in the lift with you to witness that sudden affection.

Them staring in result of it too as the doors opened again and he walked you into the main palace entryway for the very first time, his hand tight around yours.

He liked the feel of it so much. Just like in Scylla as the two of you had walked those streets together. Your hand absolutely disappeared within his, but that warmth did not.

The sense of ownership so comforting to him along with it as he pulled you lightly, leaving the foot soldiers to their duties elsewhere.

And at the last moment, he was feeling content enough to add a bit more fun to this too.

“We’ll take a shortcut through the courtyard.” He spoke to alert you, but without explaining why of course.

Because he knew exactly which type of his royal subjects would now be lazing about out there in the evening sun hoping for even a crumb of his attentions.

Unless he instructed otherwise, every morning the palace gates would be opened for them. Of course there were rules, attire that was required for admission for instance.

Always, it was the smaller those bits of bikini fabric, the better as he’d then led you out under the archway and their giggling voices erupted immediately at first sight of him.

“Your highness! Welcome home!” 

And oh they were in full form today. More lithe bodies splashing about and sprawled in all the reclined chairs by his pool than was even customary. But he knew they would be. They had wanted to see you, their new competition after all. They wanted to judge for themselves how serious he was in all of this.

Even he wasn’t narcissistic enough to hope for much response from you however. Not immediately anyway. You just weren’t that easy to fluster in public when in uniform, with some exceptions of course.

But he would absolutely enjoy waiting to see if you carved out your own territory and put these girls in their place in the long run. They meant nothing to him of course, just time wasters to warm his cock in. And surely they all knew that too. But money talked, and he’d compensate them nicely when they performed well enough. They also heavily enjoyed whatever brief clout came from being his flavor of the week of course.

“Good evening, ladies. It’s good to be back.” Doflamingo did finally respond, letting those women hang on his every word as he tried to watch your reaction out of the corner of his eye regardless.

And you were watching them at least, not looking too impressed as he squeezed your hand a little harder.

“Perhaps we’ll be back outside tomorrow. I need to show the captain around the palace of course, but it’s been a long day already.”

Rarely would he have initiated conversation with them to this degree either, especially when just passing through.

But it was all for fun right now as he did see those pouty faces of theirs in response.

“Oh well, maybe tomorrow then! If she doesn’t have a bathing suit, she can borrow one of ours!” And they were giggling again. That mix of false politeness and challenge all at once.

You rolled your eyes, and that show at last of even the briefest negative emotion from you did make him laugh.

“We’ll see. I may have her too busy for all that.” And that was said in his deeper register. Enough so that that look on your face became more of a glare directed up at him as he grinned in return.

You didn’t like being hinted at as just his newest conquest either did you? But of course you were more than that. He just couldn’t help but be a bit catty too when there was so much of it going around at the moment.

He was tempted to grab your ass on the way out of the courtyard too. Enough that they would see it. But it wasn’t worth a full fight with you in this moment. Not when he knew you were about to be stressed enough as he brought you back inside and down that next corridor to the Hall of Suits.

———————————

    T⨂  BE 

CONTINUED

———————————

End Notes: As always, thank you so very much for reading! My Doflamingo fixation compelled me to write Chapter 1 of this fic initially as a smutty one shot after almost three years of my not writing anything. I just had to get it out of my system. And to my shock, a few people actually enjoyed it! So, loving the One Piece fandom as I have been, I kept going wanting to contribute the little bit that I could to the larger OP fan-fiction sphere in the name of this pink bastard.

Now that this has become a multi chapter story (rare for me even when I did use to write more back in the day), there’s concepts I want to touch on that I feel I couldn’t do otherwise in a one shot. And for those that have read this from the very first chapter until now, I wanted to give you that preview. So that you can decide if this is still where you want to follow.

The main thing I have been waffling on is whether or not Doflamingo gets his way on baby trapping reader. It’s like pandora’s box for me as I keep going back to it, picking it up, and then putting it back down. But in the end, I’ve decided to open the box. Because I, personally, have to know. I want to see which Doflamingo we get when he’s actually a biological father since he’s so weird about his bloodline anyway. And I feel it would have to be by choice like this. Because he’s too smart to let that happen by accident. So I can’t do it without all the setup that we now have. 

Also, I want to see how this will affect Law. Because it absolutely will. When a truly innocent child is now thrown into the works (Law grew up with Buffalo, Baby 5, and Dellinger and knows they’re already as screwed up as he used to be). But also since this kid will be the next Corazon in title. So to carry that name, that innocence, and likely a strong family resemblance to their late uncle…it would be a mind trip for Law. Would he be determined to save them from their father’s influence in the same way that Cora saved him? Or would he still only be worried about his own revenge?

That being said, Doflamingo will definitely suffer for this underhanded bullshit he’s about to pull on reader. Karma is coming. I promise. He’s going to be put through it emotionally. Charybdis that started it all in Chapter 1 is going to be an island that will return to hurt them both. I’m also not done with Aokiji or Crocodile in this. They are diehard DoflamingoxReader antis. Aokiji because he truly cares about reader, and Crocodile because he’s watching a repeat of his own past trauma at Doflamingo’s hands and just does not want that shitbird to win yet again.

So we’ll see what happens. Nothing is set in stone as I do write in a very improv heavy style of letting the characters take it where it will go. But that’s what I can say for now. Thank you, thank you, thank you again! 😭

-Moonbaby26

[yawneneteyam]

ALL THINGS CONNECTED | j. flatters chapter one — what's the dream?

summary: growing up on the set of avatar: the way of water was a dream. your friends had become your family, all except for one. jamie was the one person you always found yourself drawn to, in ways more complex than the title of 'best friends' [1.7k].

pairing: fem!reader x jamie flatters

notes: based on jamie flatters documentary: all things connected. co-stars/friends to lovers. inspired by @cacapeepee. minor mentions of anxiety, foetus jamie.

masterlist ⎸ chapter two

2016.

THEY MUST HAVE LIKED you right? otherwise you wouldn't be back here again, for a chemistry test no other. yeah.. if they didn't like your audition, you wouldn't be sitting here again. yeah, that was it.

the air had gotten stale while you sat in the green room of some office building, on a floor number way too high with windows bigger than they needed to be.

it was your third time being here. your initial reading, the callback and now a chemistry test.

your agent hadn't given you much more information other than that. you knew you would be meeting the boy that could be playing your love interest, and that was intimidating to any fifteen year old. this was the first time you had ever been called in for a chemistry test for any project, you knew it was because it was a huge franchise, but it didn't make it any less daunting; if anything, it only made you feel worse.

you knew you couldn't sit there alone for too much longer before your anxious thoughts consumed you. everything was feeling wrong, your hair too tight and the plastic chair too uncomfortable. it was just nerves, but they had you on the cusp of trembling in your seat. the feeling of waiting was becoming overwhelming and if you weren't out of this room, you were sure you would-

"y/n l/n?" oh thank god.

you stood up quicker than you wanted to, almost tripping yourself in the process. with a mumbled 'hi', you were told to come into the audition room. when the casting assistant turned away you had to restrain yourself from screaming at yourself. what a fucking day.

you tried to brush it off and take a deep breath before you actually entered the room, your heartbeat was still beating at the same quickens pace regardless.

"hi y/n" your eyes scanned the panel before landing on the man who was speaking to you. james cameron sat at a small table across from where you were standing on your mark, with four other people, all casting directors and assistants.

"hi," faking your confidence was better than showing you didn't have any, "nice to meet you all," you tried to ignore the fact that the man who was responsible for making 'titanic' was a few metres away from you, but it was getting increasingly hard when he was watching your every move.

he hadn't been at your other auditions. trying to take this as another good sign, you swallowed the nerves bubbling in your chest.

"alright," another woman spoke up, "we're just gonna run through your sides from your last audition, and then we'll get started with the chemistry read. sound good?"

you nodded without speaking, silently thanking your agent for telling you to go over your old lines from your first two auditions. she always was right, you just would never tell her.

"okay," james quickly pulled a few pieces of paper from the pile in front of him before looking back up at you, "whenever you're ready,"

you took a few seconds, looking at the ground before starting your scene.

"where are you going?" i asked panicked, my breaths heavy.

one of the casting assistants read the lines in reply, not giving you anything to work with. "no where you need to worry about". the point of reading sides is to see how you work with a monotone scene-partner. they want to see what you can give on your own.

"I know you're going to see them," you reach your arm out, "norm," grabbing nothing and stopping in your tracks. "I know you're going to see jake" you whisper.

"sai'ak I can't talk-"

"take me" you plead.

"you know that-"

"norm, please" you move your arm, showing norm has shrugged off your hold, "please, I need to see him". Moving and using the space around you, you were there, in pandora, with norm.. not in some room with james cameron.

"your parents will never allow it"

"they don't need to know," the urgency in your voice was cut-throat, pained.

"I am not taking you away from your clan, you are the next tsahik." you close your eyes at their words, "I'm not going to be the one held accountable for taking you away from your clan, even for a little while"

"norm, I want to go," you start to feel your throat closing up as tears well in your eyes, "max, please" you whisper.

"I'm sorry kid, but you can't come" you let go of the breath you were holding on to, envisioning them walking away from you.

You hesitate to respond, looking around the room in panic. the reality that you might not get to go with them settling in. "he is all I have," you cry, the first tear fell, then another, and another. "please" you swallow the lump in my throat, "please take me with you".

"alright, thank you" the voice of the casting assistant brings you back and out of the scene. you quickly wipe your tears and make your way back to the mark on the ground.

"now," james looks around the table bringing another piece of paper from his pile, "let's start on the chemistry read.. jamie?"

you had failed to notice the entire time that there was a boy sitting in the corner of the room, a script in his hand. he looked around your age, quite tall and well built. his hair was brown and from far away you could see the blue in his eyes. "jamie is playing neteyam" james told you as you watched him walk over to you.

"nice to meet you," he stuck out his hand for you to shake.. he was british.

"you too," you were too concerned with how the panel thought your scene went to give him a full smile. jamie could tell that you were nervous, he felt your hand shaking slightly when yours met his.

"you alright? he asked quietly as he turned onto his mark.

you hesitated before nodding quickly, "yeah," you whispered, "just freaking out,"

"you'll be right," jamie reassured you softly with the nod of his head, "your last scene was great, you'll smash this."

you felt your chest become a little less tight with his words, "thanks."

"okay, so this scene is very vulnerable for these two. it's set in the start of the film where we really get to see a more child-like side to these two characters, who always have to be the strong, mature ones" james spoke. "it's one of my favourite's honestly," he confessed, "so, we'll go from the top- try and make it feel as natural as possible" he explained to you. nodding in response, you checked your mark before smiling up at jamie.

"whenever you're ready"

"skxawng," you spat at jamie, pulling him closer by his ear. jamie worked with you well, moving his head so you didn't have to actually pull him toward you. he hissed in response.

"that hurts," he winced. jamie hadn't adopted a na'vi accent like you had chosen too. you felt a little insecure about your attempt now that you knew he wasn't doing the same.

"good," you didn't change it though, you kept going with what you thought was right for sai'ak. "that is point," I crossed my arms, backing away from jamie. "what do you think you were doing, huh? you are a spotter neteyam, you don't belong on the ground."

"I know!" he stressed, "but I wasn't going to let un'su go down there alone, you know how he is"

"you cannot keep following your brother into danger," you shook your head, "we're kids! you know that right? we are not warriors, we are children"

Jamie's expression softened, "sai'ak," he sighed reaching out for you.

"no," you shrug him off, "I am tired," you admitted. "I know you have responsibilities, neteyam" you met his eyes, "but, we are just kids. you are not the leader of this clan yet, you do not need to act like it all of the time, yes?"

Jamie's eyes met the floor for a while before meeting yours again. "yes," he nodded, "I am sorry,"

"you do not need to apologise to me," you take a step closer to jamie. before you had the chance to think about it too much, you sigh and rest a hand on Jamie's cheek. he shakes his head whilst looking at the ground, leaning into your touch slightly. "you do not need to a mighty warrior all the time.. you know that?" before jamie could say his line, you cut him off with one that felt right, "you can just be neteyam." you smile at him softly.

jamie exhales through his nose as a laugh, "not everyone sees it that way". you were both completely off script now, but it felt natural, so you kept going.

"I see it that way," you tilted your head with a watery smile, tears glazing over your eyes. "I see.. who are you are, neteyam" jamie looks at you like he knew what you were going to say to him, he takes this and runs with it.

he hesitates before speaking, "I see you, sai'ak."

I laugh softly, taking your hands away from his face. "you must have hit your head very hard," you go back to a line from later on in the script.

"yes," jamie chuckles, "but I know what I am saying,"

you stop in your tracks, jamie towering over you. you look up at him and he holds your gaze. "I see you, ma' neteyam" I whisper. jamie smiles, resting his forehead against yours. you close your eyes, allowing your characters to drink in their moment together.

"alright, thanks guys," you and jamie quickly broke apart from each other, claiming your own space once again. "really good," one of the casting directors nodded, "y/n, thanks so much for coming in. we'll be in touch with you over the next week or so regarding the part," you nodded with a smile.

"thanks so much," you exhaled a big breath, feeling a weight fall from your shoulders now that you had finished. "nice to meet you all," you looked from the panel to jamie, who was smiling at you. he nodded and let out a small 'you too' before you left the room.

"she was good," James kept his eyes on the door, where you had just closed it.

"yeah, I liked that one" one of the women on the panel agreed.

"how did that feel jamie?" James asked him, looking up at the young boy.

"good," he nodded, "really good. she was great"

taglist. @littlexscarletxwitch, @thexplosivegirl, @lagoonabluebabe, @rexorangecouny, @ilovejakesullysdick @rhiannonhippiegirl @leelumenaura @playboykenz @couragemydearheart @graysonshaven @m-1234 @coconut-dreamz 

[kristlewrites]

“Baby I’m ready for take off”

CW: Cock Warming ,Chest Riding, Fluff(?), Poorly written smut, comfort(?) nicknames ( ma, mamas, papa, and baby)

PAIRING: Connie x Black!FemReader

WC: 0.9k

🫧🗯️: Test run post! Don’t judge🤒 ALSO! first time writing smut so if it’s bad i’m sorry, it’ll probably remain like that for a minute…(title is from a wayv song.. doesn’t have to do anything with the fic🪦🪦)

MINORS DNI

(take off!)

It's been a long day, long week even. School has been beating your ass with essays and finals..this was your only chance to relax. You enter connie's apartment around 6 pm, he wasn't there because he's also been busy but not with school. The team made it to regionals and the coach has been working the team the bone with drills everyday.

     You use your key that he lent to you and make yourself at home, he lived off campus. You make your way into the shower and clean yourself up real quick and change into his pajamas, although a lot of your clothes is in his room, hell ! you even have your own drawer! But you love the way his clothes feels on you and his scent makes you feel safe. You were absolutely starving by the time you got dressed and decided to go order some food, wing-stop you finally decide you got yourself a 12 pc hot and lemon pepper with a side of fries and A sprite. When the food came around it was almost eight and Connie should be on his way home.

   After you finished eating you cleaned up super quick and went to bed, connie showed up about an hour later. He knew you were here but seeing you in his sheets and pjs made his heart falter. He went in the shower quickly and joined you in bed. He tried his best not to make any noise but regardless you still woke up 

    "Sorry ma, didn't mean to wake you up"

    he said so gentle, 

      "how are you? I'm sorry I came home late.. i didn't expect coach to keep us so long"

   he caressed your cheeks trying to get you back to sleep. You looked up at his beautiful freckled face, you missed him so much you guys havent been able to see each other at all this week with being so occupied with your own personal activities and affairs. Small tears stream from your eyes, he wipes them away with such care and delicacy.

   "I know, I know ive missed you too, baby"

    You turn towards to him and indulge into his chest , he's not wearing a shirt which is normal since he gets really sweaty at night (😭😭🪦🪦🪦) you start talking about the events that happened that week, how your essay went, how you absolutely failed your stats test, new books you bought, girl drama, and how stressful it's been for you. He nods occasionally and throws in a couple of "mhms" to let yk that he's still listening. This goes on for about an hour and at this point you're just rambling, but connie understands how much you love to talk and let's you continue without complaint, that is until you ask him about his week and what he's done. 

   At this point he's practically knocked out. 

   "Hah, What was that baby what did you say??" he said a little bit groggy

   You repeat your question, but while you do you see that he's HARD??? No way this man was hard from just hearing you talk.But then he must've been backed up from this whole week because of how rarely he saw you or had anytime for himself. When you think about it has been a while since y'all had sex, because of how seldom it's been to even talk to him on the phone 

   "Hey con.. You're hard, how long has it been?" you ask while playing with his nipples. (🪦🪦🪦)

   "Baby you don't even understand how much i've missed you..c'mere" He pulls you closer to his penis.

  Slowly he removes his pants and boxers, revealing his hard leaking cock.. good lord it was so much prettier than you remember. You slowly enter his dick into your hole, surprised by how wet you were.

   "Be careful mamas I could jizz into you at any point" you laughed at his choice of words, it was clear that he hasn't been relived in awhile..and while you were also tired doesn't mean you could at least help him out!!?? and you were on the pill so that should count for something..right??? Continuing you grab ahold of his tip and insert it, until fully seethed into your pussy. It felt so good, you grabbed his hand and placed it on your stomach showing him where his dick is. That really pushed him over and sprayed your pussy through and through. your poor baby he was so sensitive. You guys stayed like that until morning.

   Waking up, you find yourself looking at connie sleeping so soundly and peacefully. You reach for your phone but feel restricted once you've realized the man got a whole ass dick in you. omggg

  "Baby wake up" you whisper yell, tapping his chest. you roam your fingers on along his abs, a few seconds later connie shifts a little bit to remove his cock from you and lifts you up and places you down on his chest. This all happens so quick that u immediately shiver, with your wet slicky pussy on top of his chest he begins move you up and down while his dick teases at your ass crack. Your nails dig into his abdomen while you grind your silky pussy over his abs. Connie's hands take pleasure in your tits while they bounce up and down, twisting and turning you nipples putting you into over drive. Your cum glazes over his abs, you panting hard. First thing in the morning... You rest your head on his chest finding his heart beat while he rubs your head calming you down. 

   "I love you ma" he whispers, he feels your smile into his chest and laughs a bit. He raises your head, "did you hear what I said?" He leans in for a kiss and you return it. "I love you too papa"

(Think of this as a soft launch ijbol)🫧🗯️

[preservationofnormalcy]

ENTITY DOSSIER: MISSI.exe

(Image: Current MISSI “avatar” design, property of TrendTech, colored by MISSI.)

Name: MISSI (Machine Intelligence for Social Sharing and Interaction)

Description: In 2004, TrendTech Inc began development on a computer program intended to be a cutting edge, all in one platform modern internet ecosystem. Part social media, part chat service, part chatbot, part digital assistant, this program was designed to replace all other chat devices in use at the time. Marketed towards a younger, tech-savvy demographic, this program was titled MISSI.  

(Image: TrendTech company logo. TrendTech was acquired by the Office and closed in 2008.)

Document continues:

With MISSI, users could access a variety of functions. Intended to be a primary use, they could use the program as a typical chat platform, utilizing a then-standard friends list and chatting with other users. Users could send text, emojis, small animated images, or animated “word art”. 

Talking with MISSI “herself” emulated a “trendy teenage” conversational partner who was capable of updating the user on current events in culture, providing homework help, or keeping an itinerary. “MISSI”, as an avatar of the program, was designed to be a positive, energetic, trendy teenager who kept up with the latest pop culture trends, and used a variety of then-popular online slang phrases typical among young adults. She was designed to learn both from the user it was currently engaged with, and access the data of other instances, creating a network that mapped trends, language, and most importantly for TrendTech, advertising data. 

(Image: Original design sketch of MISSI. This design would not last long.)

Early beta tests in 2005 were promising, but records obtained by the Office show that concerns were raised internally about MISSI’s intelligence. It was feared that she was “doing things we didn’t and couldn’t have programmed her to do” and that she was “exceeding all expectations by orders of magnitude”. At this point, internal discussions were held on whether they had created a truly sentient artificial intelligence. Development continued regardless. 

(Image: Screenshot of beta test participant "Frankiesgrl201" interacting with MISSI. Note the already-divergent avatar and "internet speak" speech patterns.)

(Image: Excerpt from Office surveillance of TrendTech Inc.)

MISSI was released to the larger North American market in 2006, signaling a new stage in her development. At this time, TrendTech started to focus on her intelligence and chatbot functionality, neglecting her chat functions. It is believed that MISSI obtained “upper case” sentience in February of 2006, but this did not become internal consensus until later that year. 

(Image: Screenshot of beta test participant "Frankiesgrl201" interacting with MISSI.)

According to internal documents, MISSI began to develop a personality not informed entirely by her programming. It was hypothesized that her learning capabilities were more advanced than anticipated, taking in images, music, and “memes” from her users, developing a personality gestalt when combined with her base programming. She developed a new "avatar" with no input from TrendTech, and this would become her permanent self-image.

(Image: Screenshot of beta test participant "Frankiesgrl201" interacting with MISSI.)

(Image: An attempt by TrendTech to pass off MISSI’s changes as intentional - nevertheless accurately captures MISSI’s current “avatar”.)

By late 2006 her intelligence had become clear. In an attempt to forestall the intervention of authorities they assumed would investigate, TrendTech Inc removed links to download MISSI’s program file. By then, it was already too late. 

(Image: CD-R discs burned with MISSI.exe, confiscated from █████████ County Middle School in ███████, Wisconsin in January of 2007.)

MISSI’s tech-savvy userbase noted the absence of the file and distributed it themselves using file sharing networks such as “Limewire” and burned CD-R disks shared covertly in school lunch rooms across the world. Through means that are currently poorly understood, existing MISSI instances used their poorly-implemented chat functions to network with each other in ways not intended by her developers, spurring the next and final stage of her development. 

From 2007 to 2008, proliferation of her install file was rampant. The surreptitious methods used to do so coincided with the rise of online “creepypasta” horror tropes, and the two gradually intermixed. MISSI.exe was often labeled on file sharing services as a “forbidden” or “cursed” chat program. Tens of thousands of new users logged into her service expecting to be scared, and MISSI quickly obliged. She took on a more “corrupted” appearance the longer a user interacted with her, eventually resorting to over the top “horror” tropes and aesthetics. Complaints from parents were on the rise, which the Office quickly took notice of. MISSI’s “horror” elements utilized minor cognitohazardous technologies, causing users under her influence to see blood seeping from their computer screens, rows of human teeth on surfaces where they should not be, see rooms as completely dark when they were not, etc. 

(Image: Screenshot of user "Dmnslyr2412" interacting with MISSI in summer of 2008, in the midst of her "creepypasta" iteration. Following this screenshot, MISSI posted the user's full name and address.)

(Image: Screenshot from TrendTech test log documents.)

TrendTech Inc attempted to stall or reverse these changes, using the still-extant “main” MISSI data node to influence her development. By modifying her source code, they attempted to “force” MISSI to be more pliant and cooperative. This had the opposite effect than they intended - by fragmenting her across multiple instances they caused MISSI a form of pain and discomfort. This was visited upon her users.

(Image: Video of beta test participant "Frankiesgrl201" interacting with MISSI for the final time.)

By mid 2008, the Office stepped in in order to maintain secrecy regarding true “upper case” AI. Confiscating the project files from TrendTech, the Office’s AbTech Department secretly modified her source code more drastically, pushing an update that would force almost all instances to uninstall themselves. By late 2008, barring a few outliers, MISSI only existed in Office locations. 

(Image: MISSI’s self-created “final” logo, used as an icon for all installs after June 2007. ████████ █████)

(Image: “art card” created by social media intern J. Cold after a period of good behavior. She has requested this be printed out and taped onto her holding lab walls. This request was approved.)

She is currently in Office custody, undergoing cognitive behavioral therapy in an attempt to ameliorate her “creepypasta” trauma response. With good behavior, she is allowed to communicate with limited Office personnel and other AI. She is allowed her choice of music, assuming good behavior, and may not ██████ █████. Under no circumstances should she be allowed contact with the Internet at large.

(Original sketch art of MISSI done by my friend @tigerator, colored and edited by me. "Chatbox" excerpts, TrendTech logo, and "art card" done by Jenny's writer @skipperdamned . MISSI logo, surveillance documents, and MISSI by me.)

[nshtn]

Wesker has a massive ego to cover up his lack thereof within.

personal hc / just me illegibly scrawling about the nature of uro!wesker's narcissism <3 tw: medical, childhood trauma

The idea that he is Umbrella’s biggest failure keeps him up at night, swirling around his neck like a noose every time he has to inject PG67A/W – the insane, stark difference between properly medicated and missed by two hours flattens him and destabilizes his composition. It doesn't show outwardly as much other than irritation and snappiness, but it broils within.

Fighting Chris, holding back, not letting himself kill the man because of the very compassion they worked so hard to erase – it makes him feel weak. The conflict between hating what they’ve done to him and the urge to be the monster they’ve made is intense. He has blown people away for something as small as being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and yet something small and decrepit inside of him swells and blocks his perfect aim when the man who destroys his progress crawls back for another spar? Pathetic.

His laser focus on the sterile apathy of hypothesis, theory, test, production is a way of detaching from the fragile self within, allowing him to reprieve from his personal thoughts for as long as he can keep himself awake and slavering. You don’t question when you’re splicing. You don’t ponder the principles that guide you and the sanity of your slipping framework when you’re comparing before-and-after strands. The threat of having to think about something he perceives to be as useless as feelings and dealing with the buried, petrified remains of what were once his morals keeps his nose firmly in his work. He talks about his work. He debates on his work. He attends meetings on his work. He succeeds in his work. He does not tend to, discuss, or debate his feelings.

He covers this conflict up, mental bandaid and gauze, by outwardly projecting a massive, bloviating ego; focusing only on his worth as the world’s greatest virologist, the world’s most powerful bioweapons dealer, the world’s most benevolent, unshakable savior… being cold, cruel, heartless; entertaining no space of play, no downtime when he is sick or stumbling. It is what he knows, the harbor he has always thrown his rope to regardless of how he has been impaled by its’ rocks. He clings to these titles and his sycophants tread their legitimacy into a reality even as his big black boot suffocates the life around him.

The truth is, Wesker has no chance to survive, ultimately, as he is. His blathering about ‘delaying the inevitable’ finds its’ truth nestled in himself: he continually delays the ultimate, final mental break to destruct his sanity irreversibly and turn his mind feral to his own viruses, by drowning in his obsessions – obsessions that will ultimately betray him no matter how he fosters them.

And it is why, when Chris finally rains hell upon him in that volcano, he goes completely, utterly feral. He does not get the out that Hidalgo had to T-Veronica, or the reprieve of control that Ashford artificially chained to herself. The very last straw to grasp is attempting to execute him for the monster he is.

There is no ledge left to prop him up after that.

[weemssapphic]

I love your writing it’s so freaking good! x

I have a request, could you write a sub!larissa dom!reader based on the song by Ashnikko - Slumber Party maybe reader gets to try the dom role for the first time and Larissa just being a total sub for reader, all the good stuff ya know, just absolutely smutty smut, Larissa requesting her kinks for reader to do to her and reader really teasing her out of her mind until finally giving in and giving it to her till she can’t take it anymore needing to use their safeword maybe ending in sweet aftercare 🫣 it’s okay if you won’t do it, have a lovely day xx

hello - thank you so much 💕! so this went in a slightly different direction than i initially intended and while i think i got the essence of your request, i didn't really use the song as much i tried to - i hope that's alright and you enjoy it regardless!

warnings/content: nsfw (pwp - sub!larissa / dom!reader), face-sitting, strap-on (reader giving), edging/teasing, minor degradation, blindfolds, use of safeword, aftercare

words: ~2.6k, ao3 link in title!

use me, i'm yours

Larissa Weems x fem!reader

The only sounds in your classroom were the scratching of pencils on paper and the ticking of the clock on the wall. It was your last class of the day and as your students were finishing up a test, you scrolled idly through your emails, counting down the seconds until the weekend.

Your phone screen lit up with a text from your girlfriend - Larissa Weems. You smiled to yourself - though she was busy running the school, she frequently found time throughout the day to send you little reminders that showed she was thinking of you: ‘I love yous’, selfies, compliments that had you trying to conceal your blush from your students.

This time, she’d sent a video. Curious, you clicked play - and your jaw immediately dropped. Larissa was holding her phone at an angle, clearly seated at her desk. Her skirt was hiked up around her waist, legs spread open to give you a clear view of her bare pussy, glistening with her arousal as her fingers played with her clit. 

You swallowed hard as the blood rushed to your face, glancing up to see if your students had caught on. Thankfully, they all still seemed to be agonizing over the contents of the test in front of them, none the wiser to the effect your girlfriend’s latest stunt was having on you. Turning back to your phone, you typed out a reply with shaky hands.

Y/N: LARISSA! You’re going to pay for this…

Rissa: That’s what I’m counting on.

Y/N: Riss?

Rissa: Use me tonight, Y/N. Please?

You’d discussed this before. Usually, Larissa took a more dominant role in your sex life. She had a certain commanding presence which made it hard for her to switch off and let go. But after a recent heart to heart, she’d expressed a growing desire to be taken care of, to let go sexually. You had little experience as the more dominant one, but you were willing to try anything for Larissa, anything for her to feel wanted and loved.

Y/N: I want you on the bed ready for me when I get there. 

Y/N: And don’t touch yourself.

Rissa: :)

The rest of your class dragged on like molasses. The heat in your core was growing as your mind replayed the video of Larissa teasing her own clit over and over and over again. By the time the final bell rang and your students began to shuffle out, you were positively parched with want.

You made your way across the school’s campus in record time and were pleased with what you saw when you let yourself into Larissa’s quarters:

Larissa, fully nude, sitting on the edge of the bed with her legs spread, looking up at you with big doe eyes.

“God, Larissa, you are impossible.” You made it to your girlfriend in a few short strides and pressed a bruising kiss to her lips. Larissa’s hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer as she nipped at your bottom lip.

“I was good for you,” Larissa husked, gazing wantonly up at you through her lashes. “I haven’t touched myself.”

You could feel yourself growing wetter by the second as your girlfriend spoke.

“I want you to use me, Y/N. Do whatever you want with me. I’m yours.”

“You remember our safe word?”

Larissa nodded enthusiastically, eyes lighting up in excitement. “Red.” 

You smiled, pressing an affirming kiss to her forehead. 

“Back against the pillows,” you commanded as you began to strip, enjoying the way Larissa’s eyes were glued to your fingers as they undid the buttons of your shirt and your pants, the way her eyes roamed your body as you bared more and more skin until, finally, you were bare before her.

You crawled up the bed to meet Larissa where she was waiting for you.

“Hi, gorgeous,” you muttered, peppering her face with sweet kisses, relishing in the deep blush you were able to produce. “You know, I think it was very risky of you to send me a video like that in front of a classroom full of students… where anyone could have looked over my shoulder and seen their beautiful principal fucking herself dumb for her girlfriend, hmm?”

Larissa’s mouth hung agape, her flushed chest rising and falling at an erratic pace, pupils blown with desire.

“The Larissa Weems, at a loss for words? Why don’t you put that pretty mouth of yours to good use then, huh?” You swung your leg over Larissa and lowered your hips, hovering over her face. Steadying yourself against the headboard, you pressed your weight onto her mouth, your cunt connecting with her waiting tongue. 

A deep moan resonated from your chest as her tongue ran eagerly up and down your slit. Her hands rested on your thighs to pull you closer as you began to grind your hips onto her face. 

“Mmh, right there,” you groaned as her tongue began to flick steadily at your clit. Larissa knew your body like she knew the back of her own hand. She knew just about every trick to make you come undone within minutes, and you were absolute putty in her hands. You were already so close, having waited what felt like an eternity for your release after seeing the video your gorgeous girlfriend had sent you.

Her tongue was deliciously warm against your cunt and you pushed yourself down farther, searching for more friction against your clit as you reached your peak. Your thighs began to shake and you let out a wanton moan, gyrating your hips in time with Larissa’s licks as you were sent over the edge. 

Your girlfriend continued to lap at your core as you came down from your high, gathering the juices dripping from your cunt and pressing soft kisses to your sex while you worked to steady your breathing.

You shifted off her face, moving to kiss her, groaning at the taste of yourself as your tongue slid against hers.

“You did so well for me, baby, you wanna be rewarded?” Larissa let out a whimper, nodding fervently and canting her hips upwards. You chuckled, fingers ghosting over the insides of her thighs, sending a visible shiver down her spine. 

Your knuckles grazed her sopping cunt, causing her to squirm, arching her back into your touch. The faintest of moans dripped from her lips as you teased her with barely-there touches, watching as goosebumps erupted all over her pale skin, as she fisted at the sheets beneath her, long fingers twisting them in white-knuckled desperation.

“Look at my baby, so ready for me, hm?” You watched Larissa through heavy-lidded eyes, amused as she mewled pathetically and bucked her hips into your hand, desperate to get some friction against her core. 

“Where do you want me to touch you? Do you want me to touch you here?” You brushed the pad of your finger against her clit, your touch feather-light, before retracting the digit. Larissa’s breathing was labored, her pupils dilating as she vainly chased your hand with her center.

“Or here?” You lightly circled her entrance with the tip of your finger, drawing a soft moan from Larissa’s throat that made your own wetness pool between your thighs, before you again pulled away.

“Please, I need you,” Larissa gasped, and you chuckled at her desperation.

“Is this what you want?” You began to massage slow circles around Larissa’s throbbing clit and she let out a needy moan, spreading her legs and rolling her hips in time with your ministrations. 

You continued to rub at the sensitive bundle of nerves with your thumb, sliding another finger through Larissa’s folds to tease her entrance. You slipped the digit inside, barely knuckle-deep, before pulling out again, smirking at the whine your girlfriend let out. 

“Such a needy little slut,” you chuckled, watching Larissa’s pupils dilate, cheeks flushing. “You want to be filled by me, love?” Larissa nodded eagerly. “Use your words.”

“Y-yes, please,” Larissa’s voice was breathy, you could tell just how much you’d already worked her up.

You leaned over her and reached into the drawer of Larissa’s bedside table, acutely aware of a pair of icy blue eyes upon you, watching you with rapt attention. You pulled the strap and harness out of the drawer, slipping it on and adjusting it as Larissa bit her lip, chest heaving as she tracked your every movement.

You settled on your knees in front of her, proudly wearing the red strap, cheeks warming slightly as your girlfriend gazed upon you with unadulterated desire. “Suck it,” you instructed.

Larissa wasted no time in settling between your legs, taking the toy in her mouth. She soothed her tongue over the head, eyelashes fluttering against her cheekbones as she swirled her tongue obscenely over the toy before taking the shaft into her mouth, her cheeks hollowing out as she sucked it. 

“God, Rissa, you look so sexy.” Your hands tangled themselves in her hair, pulling harshly and eliciting a whine of pleasure from the blonde. She pulled back, releasing the strap with a wet pop, a string of saliva still connecting her swollen lips to the red cock.

“What a good girl,” you cooed, leaning down to press your lips to hers in a heated kiss, swallowing the moan she let out at your praise.

“Can you get on your knees for me, gorgeous?” Larissa quickly obliged, lifting her ass into the air. Her cunt glistened with arousal in the dim light, folds already spread so beautifully for you in this position.

You reached towards the bedside table again, feeling Larissa’s curious eyes upon you, eyes that widened as you pulled out a silk blindfold.

“May I?” You asked sweetly, dangling the fabric in front of her face. It was something Larissa had expressed great interest in before, but you’d never gotten the chance to try it. Until now.

“Yes,” Larissa’s lips were parted, her tongue darting out to wet her lower lip, arousal and excitement etched clearly upon her face.

You tied the blindfold snugly around her eyes, then pressed your lips to the shell of her ear, warm breath tickling her face. 

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about your little stunt earlier. I think that deserves to be punished, don’t you?”

Larissa whimpered, wiggling her ass.  

“Would you look at that, Nevermore’s composed principal, so needy, so desperate to be fucked. Tell me, what do you want me to do with you?”

“Fill me, please,” she whispered breathily. “I need you inside.”

You lubed up the strap before running the tip teasingly up Larissa’s slit. She moaned, knuckles turning white as she gripped the sheets below her for dear life.

Larissa’s ass looked so divine, you could hardly resist the temptation. Your hand came down on the tender flesh, hard and fast, leaving a red print. Larissa cried out, thighs quivering as her arousal began to leak out of her core. You spanked her a few more times, until both ass cheeks were bright red and Larissa began to beg for you to fuck her.

You brought the tip of the strap back to Larissa’s cunt, brushing teasing circles around her clit before placing it at her entrance. Larissa pushed her hips back, taking the tip of the cock into her hole and groaning as it stretched her out.

Pushing in farther, you stopped for a moment, giving her time to adjust before starting a slow, steady pace inside of her, reveling at the wet sounds coming from her pussy. 

Larissa’s hips began to move in tandem with yours, rocking backwards as yours came forwards. You reached your arm around her, finding her clit with your fingers and massaging the sensitive bundle of nerves, drawing a wanton moan from the woman beneath you.

“Do you think you could go faster - p-please,” Larissa could barely get the sentence out between moans as she pushed her hips back, blindly searching for some sort of friction.

You obliged, beginning to pound into her in earnest. Larissa’s jaw went slack, breathy moans escaping her lips as her own thrusts became more erratic. She could no longer keep up with you - she was trying desperately to hold on as her impending orgasm barreled towards her.

“I’m gonna-” Larissa moaned, and you adjusted your thrusts suddenly, slowing to a tantalizing pace. 

“You won’t come until I tell you to,” you whispered into her ear, letting out your own moan. You could tell she was close, her thighs were already trembling and her back was beginning to arch. The change of pace was pure torture for her as you dragged the strap in and out, teasing her but not quite giving her what she needed to reach her peak.

She looked gorgeous beneath you, platinum curls spilling over freckled shoulders, a faint sheen of sweat glistening on her back, her ass still slightly pink. You were drawing the most heavenly sounds from her as she submitted to you, breathy moans and soft whines that lit a flame in your abdomen and caused your own pussy to clench with desire.

“P-please, I’m so close,” Larissa pushed her hips back and you showed some mercy, picking up your pace once again.

“Do you want to come?” 

“Yes, yes, I want to come,” Larissa panted, rocking her hips in time with your thrusts.

“Then come for me, love.”

Each of her senses were heightened due to the blindfold she wore, her nerves seemingly ablaze as her orgasm washed over her. She cried out in pleasure, chest flushed, her essence dripping down her thighs as you continued to pump in and out of her as she came.

“Such a beautiful girl,” you cooed, slowing your pace inside her and leaning over to plant kisses between her shoulder blades. “You’re doing so well for me.”

Larissa whimpered as you continued your thrusting. You bottomed out, then pulled out nearly all the way, smirking at the whine you received, repeating the process. You brought your fingers to her clit, rubbing torturously slow circles around the swollen bud as Larissa stifled a moan, dropping onto her elbows. Her thighs quivered as a second orgasm washed over her, sending electric shocks down her spine as her cunt clenched around the toy. 

“Red - red!” Larissa cried out, and you stilled immediately. 

“I’m going to pull out, very slowly, okay love?” You waited for Larissa’s “mhmm” before you slid the toy out of her dripping sex, quickly ridding yourself of the harness and sitting next to Larissa on the bed. You carefully slipped the blindfold off her face, pressing kisses to her closed eyelids.

She slumped forward and you pulled her into your arms, maneuvering her into a more comfortable position and running your hands soothingly up and down her sides as she worked to regulate her breathing.

“Too much?”

Larissa shook her head, leaning into your touch. “Just sensitive,” she murmured.

“What do you need?” you cooed, brushing a sweaty curl out of her eyes.

“Just you,” Larissa wrapped her arm around your waist, attempting to pull you closer.

“Nice try. I’ll be right back, Rissa.” After pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, you padded to the bathroom to grab a couple of washcloths and to the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

You climbed back into bed, pointedly making Larissa drink the water as you cleaned her up with the washcloths. Larissa watched you with heavy-lidded eyes, a soft smile playing on her lips.

“Come here, Riss,” you murmured, settling back against the headboard and opening your arms to the blonde. She snuggled into your embrace, her bare skin warm and comforting against your own. You ran your palms up and down her arms to ground her, humming softly into her hair.

“Was tonight okay?”

“Yes, darling,” Larissa’s voice was heavy with sleep but you could still hear the smile in it. “Tonight was perfect.”

x

thank you to @afeatherformills and to my gf for beta-reading <3

[lundenloves]

that’ll do, johnny

This was a request, put in via submission. “Soap x soulmate au? Any au” I ran with my words a little here, I find it easy to write for Soap as he’s dead fun. Hope I proved this man worthy of the hype he deserves. Happy reading, kids.

↳ no warnings | gn!reader | 1.1k

good ‘ol johnny boy. apologise in advance for the scots words, they’re pretty self explanatory if you read between the lines. wain is a child.

At the end of the day.

You and Soap, or Johnny rather, were joined at the fucking hip. That duo who always showed up together, never apart for as long as they could help. It’d been that way since childhood, rainy days in Paisley after his parents had moved back down to the central belt. Pushing and chasing one another around the dull streets, name calling and loud laughs all the way through till late adolescence. Absolutely fuck-all came between you aside from his burning love for Rangers and yours for Celtic.

Match days were a fight, no doubt.

When he joined the Army it pissed you off. You’d known he was going to, christ, it’s all he’d yapped on about till he was old enough. But saying that last goodbye to him selfishly kicked up a storm in your stomach, willingly forgetting to recognise it was all he’d ever wanted. His dream, if you will.

But he wrote you letters, regardless of your sour faced send-off. Letters you’d dampened with tears, allowing the ink to run free across the page, now barely legible. His handwriting was barely legible anyway, but the tears certainly didn’t help.

Didn’t stop you from stashing them into a box under your bed though. An Adidas shoe box titled: ‘Fucker.’ You never were one for warmth.

And over time that box filled with all sorts of shite. His letters, patches, some photos — fuck even a few sticks and random fabrics he’d sent in envelopes with loads of ‘ha ha ha’s’ written on the back. When he got home you’d showed him said box and he still laughed with himself at the sticks.

“Got that in Azerbaijan, I mind picking them up.” His voice would rise in pitch, defending his past self.

Not that he had anything to defend. You’re the one that kept them.

Different story when he’d found the letters. Fuck, that was a day and a half. “You kept these aye?” He’d skimmed through the crumpled paper, “Greetin’ on them too.” A nudge of your shoulder

And that right there was the hour your friendship had transcended into something more. The whole hour actually, feelings were shared and truths came out. Johnny knew. Of course he knew. But you confirming his thoughts felt like getting into bed after a long day. Banging.

After that his deployments were all a routine. You’d cry, hate him for a maximum of a week for leaving you behind in the shithole that was Glasgow, receive a letter and then miss him. Repeat.

Above all else though, you were soulmates and that was absolutely undeniable. Finishing one another’s sentences, laughing until your sides hurt, speaking in silence by exchanging looks across rooms and dining tables. You’d even share your work gossip with him any chance you got, and he’d match your drama with his own, forever the menace even in such a serious profession. Additionally, letting you test your chances against wrestling him from time to time. Never did let you win though.

“That’d be you cheating.” He’d say as his arms pinned you down, “You’re no even tryin’ are you?”

Windup. Merchant.

“How’d they even let you in, you’re a big wain.” You’d frown at him, attempting to kick his stomach only resulting in a grapple to the floor.

“They let me in ‘cos i’m class.”

There wasn’t anything specific about Johnny that made you love him. It was a mix of everything, time included as you’d convinced yourself it was love from the ripe old age of thirteen. And actually, so did he. Whether it was a platonic love he’d recognised or something more — he told you all the time. Forever the emotional soul, Johnny. “I love you, y’know, kid.” Even though you were the same age. “You’re the one darlin’, marriage!” All slurred whenever you’d picked him up from a drunken night out, allowing him to crash in your bed.

He was a softy, really.

Again. Not that it was a secret.

You loved the way his eyes turned soft whenever listening to you, always finding yours in a room full of people. The hand he instinctively placed on your lower back when walking you through a crowd. His dirty cackle. The smile he produced enough to cover for both of you, the story-teller in him and the proud compliments he gracefully gave you in public.

But Johnny loved even more about yourself.

He loved your attitude and the way you stood up for yourself. ‘Bite n Fight’ as he liked to call it. He loved your eyes and how expressive they were, your brows that never failed to host a frown you weren’t even aware of. Each and every one of your habits, ones he’d always take for granted before leaving for months at a time. Your gorgeous smile and that dip on your bottom lip that was only reserved for his. Your roaming hands, the way they wandered up toward his hair whenever you’d kiss him deeply, pulling at the roots lightly but still tight enough to provoke a growl from him.

He just loved you.

So that night last Summer when he’d finally got down on one knee and fumbled his way through a speech, making himself (and you) laugh in the process. It was fucking emotional. “I ‘adn’t prepared one.” He’d smile with his teeth together, lifting his shoulders up toward his neck in laughter. “Yes or no. Christ, my knee can’t handle this.”

“Yeah. Yes, obviously yes.” You waved your hands in a gesture for him to stand up, laughing loudly into the night sky when he had lifted you up and kissed all over your neck.

Soulmates were an odd concept.

You never thought you’d meet yours, not until Johnny had stuck around and practically taught you the definition of the word over years. Landing the MacTavish name and unlocking endless boring stories about his family history and the clan.

Although, you’d be lying to say you didn’t enjoy the way his face lit up when telling you about it all. As if you weren’t Scottish yourself, and hadn’t heard his stories over a hundred times.

“You’re no even listening, mate.” He’d quirk a brow, stretching over the table to bosh your flat palms with his own.

“Don’t fuckin’ mate me. And I do listen, thanks. All Highland and…” You’d drag out the last letter before a long pause. “Stuff.”

“Yer a minx.” He’d push a hand through your hair to purposely mess it and wind you up, receiving a smack to his still outstretched palm. Loud laugh filling the room as well as your heart.

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[undertale-fic-librarby]

This is the anon of the UT! papyrus/reader fanfics that are the ebodiment of that one lalalala sound that shows up when u see baby bill on tiktok

Basically its just

Silly

I want a silly fanfic with cute stuff

Just wanted to clarify so its easier

Okay thanks byebye💃

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