#I have the fucking LIVE ads but not polls???????????????
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ppl who hate fun and joy and bizarre local dishes keep tormenting me with their poll powers whEN DO I GET IT ALREADY
#elk text#27th#February#2023#February 27th 2023#I have the fucking LIVE ads but not polls???????????????
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toxic ex olympics in cybertron who’s winning and why is it prowl
#id make this a poll but alas. i dont have the option on desktop and i Refuse to update the app#runner ups are: Pharma. Megs. OP. (tho these two arent even toxic exes. they have smth else going on)#Chromedome lol. whatever minimus' brother's name was#getaway doesnt count cause that bitch has never fucked#wait. he had that thing with skids. adding him idc#starscream too why now#not*#Tarantulas doesn't count. He wasn't a toxic ex. He was a SCORNED ex. im on his side.#cant think of anyone else. live laugh love.#'olaya this list is atrocious and doesnt make sense' it makes sense TO ME.#olaya speaks
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Disrespectfully, what the actual fuck have they done to this app... Is tumblr trying to get itself declared officially unusable & put out its misery or??
#First of all wtf is a live tab & how do I get rid of it#Or at least remove this blaring NEW badge over it#But even more of all why have they moved everything around again#Why is it so fucking difficult to add tags to posts now??#Tags are the fucking point of this site 🙄🙄🙄🙄#Move everything around fucking with my muscle memory is bad enough#But this random non indicative iconography????#Why can't I add tags to a reblog without adding a readmore wtf is that bleugh#No I don't want to add a poll to a reblog bleugh#Eugh this is so annoying they really might chase me off here with their shite ux & terrible ideas :(#Tumblr#Technology#Blast from the drafts#Also! Y r half my tags green now?!#& can they fuck off with this community label bs.
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#finally got polls so of course this is the first one I'd do#and yes I included live & rage cause he imo in text does admit to fucking the doctor and the doc goes in to kiss him#and james bond cause obviously it wasn't his first time y'know#could have added way more that imo are gay but they aren't really that canon gay and I'm not sure if it's just my queer view or not#like flashbacks if a fool/our friends in the north/munich/road to perdition/layer cake/enduring love...#but I thought I'd stick with the pretty much canon gay characters#and gay is used as an umbrella term here#daniel craig
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I don’t know why Google has decided I’m in Colorado, but I can’t say I’m complaining.
#on the one hand#it’s annoying to keep getting YouTube political ads for a state I don’t live in#and it’s a pain to always have to manually enter my location when looking for a local store#BUT!#I have apparently done something to fuck up their algorithm#and that fact gives me endless satisfaction#just like when I got flooded with plus size clothing ads#don’t know where that came from#I am very much not plus sized#I don’t know if they’re just trying to get me to lower my guard#but I like to think I’m not as easy to pin down as they think#ooh! maybe it’s all the useless info I give to their stupid YouTube polls!#if that noise is fucking them up this bad it’s even better!
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another day, another drama.
pairing: lando norris x fellow driver’s sister!reader.
summary: the one where you think o/s is hiding something from you, so with the help of your boyfriend and his friends, you try to figure it out. too bad you find more than you bargained for.
author’s note: part of the nepo sister universe. i fear we might be coming to the end of the nsu soon…. also there is a poll at the end, help a struggling writer out and vote pls mwah.
— part one | part two (coming soon).
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liked by oldersistersbff, yourbff and 287,737 others.
yourusername: just saw these pics of my bf and burst into tears. fuck f1 for taking my bf and my sister away from me….
oscarpiastri: ur welcome ☺️
-> yourusername: SICK SICK MAN!!!! 😒😒
user1: not u acting like a war widow 😭
-> yourusername: my husband (boyfriend) has been taken as a prisoner of war (forced to do his job) thousands of miles away (no this part is actually real).
user9: i’m new to this. are they lovers?
-> user8: worse.
*liked by oscarpiastri.*
formula1: we apologise yourusername! but you’ll see him soon we promise! :)
-> yourusername: RETURN MY BF IMMEDIATELY….
-> user5: girl what about your sister??
-> yourusername: she’ll be fine 😘
user6: girl um did u see ur sister’s newest interview???
-> yourusername: no??!! BRB!
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liked by zendaya, simonebiles and 3,288,728 others.
vogue: the paddock’s princess came to talk to us about being our newest cover girl, winning her most recent championship, going viral, her love life and what her favourite smoothie combination is.
user3: shes so cute 🥺🥺
user1: o/s has been notoriously single since her breakup with paul like five years ago… why is she giggling and smiling when asked about a man???
-> user2: no i noticed that… omg is she seeing someone?
user7: face card never declines!
user4: when gav told her that she’d won and the first thing she did when she left the car was hug him and cry??? she’s so cute. i’m so glad i live in the y/n domination era.
-> user5: the edits with that video are sick… o/s is keeping the tiktok editors in business.
-> user9: have you seen the ones about her and lando to the song lacy??? INSANE…
-> user5: DM ME RN
user31: her saying she doesn’t ever want to be defined by her wins and rather by who she is a person. we love a charitable queen!
yourusername: love life… hmmm….
-> user4: oh no….. she’s plotting 😭
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liked by oldersistersbff, user72 and 2,833,617 others.
oldersister: family reunion.
yourusername: no credits for the pics??
-> oldersister: no. you take enough credit from my card.
-> yourusername: … fair.
user1: she’s deadass married wth.
-> user6: family reunion out of nowhere? talking about her love life suddenly after years of not even having one? photographed with two separate men?? shopping with o/s/bff in a bridal boutique and cordoning off the area?? it’s adding up sis ur not even delusional for this one….
user9: WHO’S UR MAN @/oldersister
user5: stop with the married jokes y’all…. i can’t lose my queen to some MAN….
user3: are you planning on changing ur surname from l/n.
-> oldersister: never.
-> user16: oh so you do see these comments…
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SPYING TRANSCRIPT - THURSDAY, 6PM.
- written by LANDO NORRIS, for his boss Y/N L/N.
LANDO NORRIS - i think she’s dating carlos. i’m putting my cards out there.
OSCAR PIASTRI - put your cards back. no way that’d happen. i think she’s dating someone else. look at these photos. that guy isn’t carlos.
DANIEL RICCARDO - just tell y/n she’s dating me and we can all go to sleep. i mean look at my incredible good looks, it would be sacrilegious to not want me.
PIASTRI - if she was gonna go for the hottest driver on the grid she’d go for lewis or charles.
CHARLES LECLERC - oh thank you oscar! very nice.
NORRIS - you’re moving away from the point. wait… is someone knocking on the door?
(everyone looks at each other concerned)
RICCIARDO - oh i ordered pizza. i forgot. my bad!
LECLERC - how about her dating another athlete? someone who understands this life but won’t affect her position here.
NORRIS - smart… what athlete has she been seen with recently?
PIASTRI - according to social media, simone biles?
NORRIS - isn’t she married? nah, who else.
RICCIARDO - she was telling me the other day that she went to the psg game. i asked her why and she said she had a friend who played for them.
LECLERC - kylian mbappé? that makes a lot of sense actually….
NORRIS - do you feel a kin to him? i mean, you’re both frenchmen after all.
(OSCAR PIASTRI would like the transcript to include the following: — after this, charles hit lando. i laughed.)
PIASTRI - it could be that this is all a big misunderstanding. she could have been shopping for a bridesmaid dress. why would she get married and not tell her sister who she’s incredibly close to? that makes no sense to me.
RICCIARDO - anyways….
NORRIS - what about leonardo dicaprio!
LECLERC - she is under 25….
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taglist: @23victoria @luckyladycreator2 @mxdi0 @booksandflowrs @charlesleclercsonlywife @casperlikej @nichmeddar @decafmickey @evie-119 @ironmaiden1313 @d3kstar @blupblupfish @demvnsriot @raevyng @namgification (don’t see yourself or wanna be removed? send an ask!)
— don’t wanna miss an update? join my taglist!
#jayde’s works ☆#nepo sister universe ✽#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 smau#formula one x reader#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#f1 texts#f1 fanfic#formula one imagine#lando norris smau#lando norris x you#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris#ln4 smau#ln4 x reader#ln4 x y/n#ln4#ln4 imagine
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bnha: saying, “thank you, daddy,” during sex
18+ content. mdni. minors & blank blogs will be blocked.
yagi | shota | hizashi | izuku | eijiro | hitoshi | shoto | iida | denki | fumikage | katsuki
a/n: thank you so much for 200+ followers! i ended the poll just a tad early because i’ve got a busy day. i hope you all enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it, and i’ll see you with the next piece! 💜 bunny
tags: aged up characters, multiple orgasms, begging, verbal teasing, pleasure dom!eijirou, pregnancy mention (izuku), breeding kink mention, rough sex, daddy kink (obvs), mommy kink mention, name calling: slut, pet names, implied sexual trauma mention (shouto)
small note that none of these were written to have massive age gaps, but read them however you like. :)
yagi. do i really need to explain this one? (again?) fine, fine. he’d never really thought about it until you called him “daddy” once out of the blue in a non-sexual way; now he can’t stop fisting his cock to thoughts of hearing your sweet voice moaning “daddy” over and over while you grasp tightly to him until neither of you can think. sure, he’s very vanilla, but that doesn’t mean your sex life is lacking or that he’s not willing to try new things. the first time you whimper a soft, “thank you, daddy,” while looking him in the eyes in the middle of it, he’s surprised and blushes hard, but he loves it. he kisses you tenderly and fucks you hard but sweetly. yagi aches to take care of you in the sweetest ways in every aspect of life. he’s lived a hard life and carried the world on his shoulders for decades. let the man live and love him deeply, feed that desire. he deserves rest, and your tender, shaky, soft voice can give him that.
shota. hooo boy. buckle up, you’re in for a man you’ve never seen before. he grabs you hard by the hair or the face and makes you look at him. he has a look in his eyes that strikes fear into you and makes you melt at the same time. “that’s fucking right, babygirl, you thank daddy when he fucks you. say it again." his hands grip tighter and are rougher and stronger than you expected. i hope you’re ready for multiple rounds, being sore the next day, and possibly a red ass and a few bruises. may or may not have a breeding kink that suddenly rears its head if you try this (i’m undecided).
hizashi. it’s like he was expecting it, and not in a, “yeah, you better thank me,” kind of way. a switch flips, and you realize that he’s been waiting for you to get on his level the whole time because he’s been trying to draw this out of you for months without saying it. he might seem aloof sometimes, but you know he’s got great social and emotional intelligence. it’s almost like he knew “daddy” was on the tip of your tongue from the first time he laid eyes on you, but he’s surprisingly patient and will wait until you call him that first before making it a regular thing. you finally let, “thank you, daddy,” slip out during sex? he’s caressing your face saying, “there she is, that’s my sweet girl. say it again, love…. such a good little listener.” next thing you know he’s adding little notes like, “Daddy loves you ;)” to the lunch you left in the fridge for the next day, and you’re blushing at work, trying to hide it from your coworkers unless you eat alone.
eijiro. if you say that in general, he gets a lot rougher, but his praises and encouragement get sweeter (for the most part). i’d say eijiro either gets more desperate, much like i wrote here, or it pulls that dominant streak out of him with a vengeance, so watch out. he’s not necessarily a daddy, but say you try this on pleasure dom!eijiro? you’re in for a fucking trip if you utter the words, “thank you, daddy.” with the help of toys he’s gonna have you cumming more times than you thought possible - well into double digits - and make you thank him every single time. “c’mon, pretty girl, just one more for me, hmm?… that’s my good girl. you can do it…. i know, it feels so good, doesn’t it, sweetheart?” meanwhile, the most you can give him by the end of it is a string of moans with a nod or a head shake if you’re lucky.
izuku somehow becomes needier and more dominant while also turning into a damn puddle. he’s might just wind up thanking you while fucking you harder because he didn’t realize how much he’d love hearing that come out of your mouth. “oh fuck, angel, you’re so sweet to me. daddy loves you so much.” he will probably fuck you stupid every day for at least a week just to hear you say it again. assuming you’re well into your relationship and have discussed kids, be prepared for him to softly mumble in your ear. “daddy’s gonna make you a mommy someday. you wanna be a mommy for me, princess? you’ll look so fucking gorgeous, baby. i can’t wait,” because izuku is a family man to the core. there’s no way he’s not thinking about you barefoot, pregnant, and bent over the kitchen counter if you call him daddy in any context.
hitoshi is going to tease the shit out of you for it in bed and out. “what’s that, slut? i didn’t quite hear you…. ‘thank you, daddy?’” he chuckles and wraps a hand around your neck, his violet eyes glimmering. his voice is soft and a little condescending as he leans in. “thank you is fucking right, kitten. say it again…. louder, slut. daddy wants to hear you,” hitoshi taunts with a grin. “it’s a good thing you’re cute when you thank me.”
shoto. oh, honey. please do both of you a favor, and gently ask him first. he’s got so much trauma around his actual shithead of a father that pulling smth like this without forewarning has a chance of not only killing the mood, but sending shoto into a tailspin for weeks wondering if he’s anything like enji in bed. and i don’t need to explain why that would terrify him, do i? if he wants to try it, it would likely happen while you’re riding him or maybe giving him a top tier blowjob; let him experience how enthusiastically you want him when you let those words fall out, and he might get hooked. be prepared, though. if it goes well, he may grab your hips/head and fuck you relentlessly. if it doesn’t, there may be a lot of quiet snuggling and consoling him for several days that, unequivocally, yes, he makes you feel so loved, and you truly enjoy every intimate moment you have with him. it wouldn’t hurt to remind him of that even if he ends up loving it. however, talk to him in just the right way and treat him so very well like the sweetheart he is tho? “thank you, mommy,” (or some other title) may slip out of his mouth, let’s be honest.
tenya is very confused. i’m so sorry lmao. there’s going to be an awkward conversation mid-sex. once you explain the appeal to him, he’ll probably be on board to try it again and initiate the next time you fuck. “thank me when i fuck you, baby. let me hear it.” warning: there’s a slight chance he’ll develop a breeding kink if you keep this up.
denki is kind of blindsided but he’s not mad about it. he never thought he’d hear that from you because he’s so much leaner and goofier and softer than his friends. he’s more than okay with that, but in his mind that doesn’t equate to “daddy.” hearing those words on your lips, the look on your pretty face, and the way your tits move while he’s fucking you does him in, to be honest. he’s moaning and loses himself a little bit. he asks you to say it again maybe once or twice, making sure you orgasm before he blows because he’s going to cum the next time you say it.
fumikage. is it possible for him to somehow become even more tender and loving while absolutely destroying your cunt with a hand wrapped firmly around your throat? you’re not sure, but you’re about to find out. dark shadow wraps the two of you up inside themself, intensifying the intimacy of the moment. “again, darling…. you are so precious to me. nothing compares to your sweet voice.” daddy kink may or may not be his thing; he’s still figuring that out. what he does know is that he loved the intimacy and vulnerability of that moment with you, and he needs more of it. if he hasn’t realized it yet, he may come to the conclusion that a D/s dynamic is the way to find what he’s looking for.
katsuki is a bit of a wild card. every time, he’s either going to melt on the spot or fuck you into another realm of existence. or both. you are far from the first to have said this spontaneously (he looks like a model, he’s strong as hell, and he’s one of the top pro heroes, what do you expect?), but katsuki is pretty damn sure you’ll be the last. first time: maybe one day he’s fucking you hard. you can’t explain it, but something about whatever he’s doing or the way he looks at you makes you want to beg to cum. so you get achingly close, and you do. “please, can i cum, kats? please? i need your cock so fucking bad, please.” he’s thrown off for a split second until he sees your needy, fucked out face. you ask again, and then he’s right there with you. “yes, cum for me, baby.” a rush crashes over your body and the words slip out before you can stop them, just before you cum. “thank you, daddy.” and you cum hard. it’s not long until he’s groaning into your skin about you being “such a good fucking girl” as he fills you.
#millennialmagicalgirl#i wanted to include togata and amajiki but maybe another day#aged up characters#bnha#mha#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#boku no hero#bakugou katsuki#bnha smut#mha smut#x reader#toshinori yagi#aizawa shouta#yamada hizashi#shinsou hitoshi#midoriya izuku#todoroki shouto#tenya iida#kaminari denki#kirishima eijirou#fem!reader#bnha x reader#bnha x fem!reader#mha x reader#mha x female reader#bakugou x reader#kirishima x reader#Midoriya x reader#fumikage tokoyami
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March Madness Event - Winner (NSFW | Buggy X Marine!GN!Reader)
Woah woah woah, this story concludes the March Madness event!
(In case you missed it, throughout the month of March I posted polls pitting kinks against kinks. The ones that lost in the polls received short stories involving a bit of failure. The kink that won at the end of the month was slated to receive a proper story. And that's where we are now!)
I'll be honest, I did not expect this to be the winner. Then again, I should have seen it coming with how it took off in every poll it was in.
Thank you all for participating! Voting, reading, commenting, liking, reblogging - everything!!
I hope you enjoyed this event and that you enjoy this story. 🩷
Description: As a Marine, you're responsible for safely escorting the captured prisoner, Buggy the Clown. Things don't go according to plan and while the prisoner remains captured, not all of him ends up behind bars...
Teeny tiny teaser: "This fucker needed to know the effect his dumbass decision had on others."
Word count: ~3.4k (I don't remember the last time I wrote a one-shot this long 🥴)
Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, buggy x GN!reader, marine!reader, no use of Y/N, insertion sex, bit of degradation, cockwarming (not solely intimate, but there is some eventually), misuse of devil fruit powers
“I can fuck you harder if you uncuff me,” he said through gritted teeth. “C’mon, tell me you don’t want that.”
The teasing remark was hissed behind your ear, sending a shiver through your body. Your weak fucking body, nearly wiped of all self-restraint. A thin thread of rationality kept you tethered to a sense of preservation, but the constant pounding threatened to snap that hold.
You were responsible for locking up the prisoner - a duty you’ve fulfilled many times without issue. Over the years, your strength and cleverness helped you climb the ranks of Marines, yet this was the first time you failed to complete this responsibility. Well, you haven’t failed yet, but the more the thread frays, the more your legs shake, the more his heavy grunts fill your ears…
Your shaky hands gripped the seastone cuffed wrists wrapped around your body. Although the pirate couldn’t grip your hips the way either of you wanted, he was able to pull your body towards his as he relentlessly slammed himself in you.
Of all the captured criminals you ever escorted, it was the goddamn clown that broke you. The pathetic clown with a face of smeared paint. Left behind by his crew. A captain who was visibly crestfallen when none of the Marines appeared impressed by his presence.
Despite his circumstances, the prisoner - Buggy the Clown - lived up to his namesake. Nearly every comment out of his mouth was a joke, often at the expense of anyone around him. The lack of laughter after each quip should add to embarrassment and pity for the clown, but you found yourself enjoying the amusement he was clearly creating for himself. It was…endearing.
As his sole escort below deck, his attention quickly turned towards you and the warm fluttery feeling you had moved lower in your body. Silence only protected you for so long before your face was too red to ignore, giving the clown encouragement to continue. Changing tactics, Buggy started spouting cheesy and overused pickup lines. Each remark said with unabashed enthusiasm added to the heat on your face.
“If I could rearrange the alphabet, I’d put ‘U’ and ‘I’ together.” “I’d like to report a crime. My breath was stolen.” “That Marine uniform doesn’t look so bad on you. But it would look better on the floor.”
Those comments were so stupid and worked so well. A few hissed retorts and threats of punishment were disarmed with a charming smile. You had no chance of winning whatever this game was. Secretly, you weren’t sure you wanted to win. There was something alluring about this pirate who tried to hide behind jokes and laughter that you wanted more of.
Arousal easily increases in potency when mixed with other feelings. For you, it was unexpected affection and the lure of degeneracy. For Buggy, you assumed it was the fear and anxiety that comes with imprisonment. Each concoction was perfectly portioned and all it took were choice words, overly-familiar touches, and curious glances for the poison to take effect.
Alone in the room, it only took seconds to pull your pants low enough to grant Buggy access. You leaned forwards, steadying yourself against the wall, while he grabbed the lower hem of your top. His thrusts were erratic and sloppy as he tried to find a decent pace. There was barely enough time for this moment of guilty indulgence and you both wanted as much from it as possible.
Bringing his bound hands overhead, Buggy pulled you close to his chest until you were wrapped in his hold. With his hands closer to your hips, he was able to move both of your bodies at a quick tempo. He was rewarded with a whine that escaped your heavy breathing.
“S’that how you like it? Hard and rough? I didn’t expect you to be so fucking filthy. Do all your prisoners get welcomed like this?”
Fuck. Why did his voice sound so good? And why did it sound better saying such degrading shit?
You shook your head and leaned into his touch, wanting to feel more. “Sh-shut up. Don’t you ever stop talking?”
“You d-don’t want that,” Buggy groaned. “I can feel your body squeeze when I talk. You like it.” His teasing was met with a delicious whimper.
Every word from his mouth had your head spinning. You wanted so much more. You wanted to taste his voice, to feel his mouth against yours, to feel his lips on your skin, but he wore that stupid face paint. You wanted his touch everywhere, for his hands to roam your body, for him to hold you tighter, but he needed to keep the cuffs on. Buggy was a Devil Fruit user. He was dangerous. And he was breaking you down.
Almost as if he could read your mind, Buggy started describing all the ways he wanted to screw you. How good you are at taking him. He wants to hear how good he makes you feel. Lost in the haze of lust, you barely remembered pulling out the key you wore on a chain and had tucked under your clothes. Your palm ached from how tightly you gripped the key while fighting against the horny instincts crowding your body.
You were so close, so achingly close. Maybe if you timed it right, it would be okay. You could minimize the danger. That makes sense, right? It could work. The wisp of rational thought faded away so softly that you didn’t miss its absence.
“Please,” was all you could get out as you unlocked the cuffs and let them fall to the floor.
It was like you released a feral animal with that decision. You didn’t realize just how much the seastone had sapped from Buggy until you felt his bruising grip as he brutally slammed his hips into yours. Even his cock seemed to get harder as it was bullied deeper in your body. He struggled to stay quiet, grunting like a wild boar as he rut into you.
You were on the edge of the precipice, ready to throw yourself over the ledge, when a horrible sound yanked you back to solid ground. A piercing siren sound filled the ship, signaling the top of the hour and a change in duties. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. You needed to finish your job before anyone found out what you were doing. Who you were doing.
In a panic, you elbowed the pirate and spun around. “They’re gonna catch us,” you said with wide-eyes.
With all his blood below the belt, Buggy was already caught off-guard by the loud noise. Your rapid change from a whimpering needy thing who needed to be railed, to a Marine who wanted to follow the rules was a lot for the pirate to follow after losing the trail of his own orgasm. All he could do was struggle to pull up his pants as you shoved him into the jail cell and locked him in. Thoughts slowly returned to his head and weakness seeped back into his body as he watched you fix up your uniform before freezing.
“What the fuck did you do?” The question started as a shout before you restrained the rest of your temper.
“I wanted to make sure you come back for me,” Buggy responded with a wink. “Besides, we didn’t get to finish. I figured you could keep it warm for me until the encore.” He reached down and grabbed the crotch of his pants, which was baggier than it should be.
“Are you fucking ser-” The rhetoric question was stopped by the throbbing in your body.
Between your body fully accepting the rough fuck and the whirlwind of anxiety about being caught, you didn’t notice that Buggy left you with a piece of himself. Of all the things he could have done with his Devil Fruit powers in that moment, rather than doing something, anything, that could help him escape, the clown chose to part from his dick. What a fucking joke.
---
It was a sunny day with just enough of a breeze to keep the sails full and to blow away excess heat from the sun. The gentle wind helped dry the perspiration on your skin as you crossed the deck, towards the meeting room. While the air carried away some of the physical evidence, your body still burned and you chose to believe the unrelenting heat was shame. Punctual attendance was critical on the ship and you couldn’t even spare a few minutes to evict the pirate’s privates without risking a penalty.
With each step, you felt the fullness between your legs and the stretch from his girth. You couldn’t remember what it meant to walk normally. Every movement was over thought and analyzed. What felt normal made your core feel too tight against the intrusion. Longer strides had you worry that he might slip out. While it seemed unlikely (all of this was unlikely already), you worried about losing this bit of Buggy. There would be no reasonable way to explain a lone penis anywhere on the ship.
As hard as you tried to be upset with Buggy’s stupid horny decision, your body was still flooded with hormones that drowned logic and only allowed obscene thoughts to float. You were deep in a fucked up situation and you were enjoying it.
You arrived just in time for the meeting to start. It was a daily check-in where attendees would recite numbers and metrics that meant nothing to you. It was important and wholly unnecessary. The returning sheen of sweat and lingering redness on your face could be excused as the hustle needed to arrive on time and not the throbbing you felt inside.
Settling into one of the open chairs, you couldn’t find a position that was remotely comfortable. There was minimal padding on the wood chairs and the backrests were at an awkward height that provided no support. Leaning too far one way pushed Buggy further inside and you just barely concealed the discovering gasp as a deep breath.
Crossing your legs was a terrible idea, as it only added to the unforgiving pressure. The sensation attacked you both, as you felt the confined cock flex in its warm prison. You quickly uncrossed your legs, glad no one could see how they shook under the table.
Wicked voices began whispering to you, talking over the droning presentation at the head of the table. You couldn’t find any reprieve from what you were feeling. The only thing that made you feel better was giving in. You could afford to let your mind drift, this meeting was only to make others feel important. You had your own feelings to deal with.
Your mind wandered down to where those feelings radiated from. To the frustrating ache between your legs. Buggy was a good length, on the longer end of average, but his thickness was far more than average. Thankfully he got you so riled up earlier and all you had to suffer through was a burn that he quickly fucked away. Your body had grown accustomed to the wideness, but being held open for so long was different. Even through the uniform, you felt exposed. With each twitch from your hole as it fruitlessly tried to find some give against the occupant, you fell apart a little more.
You shifted in the chair again, cautiously rolling your hips with the movement. Just once. And then again, under the guise of trying to get comfortable. Fuck, that did feel good. Your body shifted against Buggy’s member just right. You tensed against him, chasing that sensation, and receiving a heavy throb in response.
Your name broke through the fog you willingly got lost in. Your eyes snapped to the man standing at the head of the table.
“Is there something more important than going over these reports?”
Maybe your movements weren’t as subtle as you thought.
“No, Sir. Just trying to get comfortable. I apologize for the distraction.” You spoke loudly, overriding the quiver hiding in your throat.
Buggy was reacting to the jolt of tension that ran through our body. Clenched fists pressed into your knees and your toes curled in the little space available in your boots as you rode out his movement. It was incredibly frustrating and absolutely embarrassing. So why did it feel so fucking good?
---
The rest of the meeting ended without further incident. At least, as far as any of the attendees cared. For you, every action and reaction from either of your linked bodies felt like a whole new event to survive. You offered a tight lipped smile to everyone as they left the room, preferring a small audience when you attempted to use your weak legs. Luckily, horniness and adrenaline held you up and supported you out of the room.
The infirmary was a few doors down and it was around the time the doctor took a break. If you were lucky, the room would be empty and you could put an end to this. The luck was debatable when you opened the door to two pale faces. One belonged to the Marine who was on guard duty and the other belonged to the prisoner being guarded. A prisoner who offered you a small smile that matched the one painted on his face.
The guard started babbling when you entered the room. “H-he doesn’t look good, r-right? I brought him h-here, but they’re all on break. I’m wor-worried he’s gonna upch- upchu-ugh, pu- v- vom-”
“Get sick?”
The guard nodded with pursed lips, struggling to hold back the hiccups and sympathetic heaves that wracked their body. “Doesn’t seem ser-serious enough to call the med-ugh medics b-back.”
You looked at Buggy, trying to assess what was going on. Was this a ploy or was he actually ill? Were you going to get sick?
“It doesn’t look that serious. I can stay with him. Why don’t you go lie down?” Your offer was accepted before you even finished speaking.
The infirmary door closed, leaving you and Buggy in an awkward silence. He sat in a chair, hunched over, still giving you a weak smile.
“Are you okay? Is it bad?” You asked, concerned that his flashy self seemed to be affected. Crouching down, you brought yourself closer to his level.
“Bad,” he repeated hoarsely, leaning towards you.
His trajectory would bring his painted forehead to the white shoulder of your uniform, so you intercepted. Pressing your head against his, you waited for Buggy to continue.
“N-need you. Made a bad decision, need you, please.” One of his cuffed hands pawed at the empty space where his dick should be.
With his strength and stamina taken away during imprisonment, Buggy’s self-inflicted secondary imprisonment was too much. He could feel everything - how your body continued to struggle around him, how warm you were inside, how you reacted to his involuntary cries and demands for more. It felt so fucking good, so deliriously wonderful, and downright torturous.
There was no end in sight, though. There had to be a reason you kept him inside, so even if Buggy could come, it would be followed with overstimulation that could go for who knows how long. Not to mention how upset you would probably be if you were unexpectedly full of his hot cum.
Buggy whimpered at the thought. At imagining you full and plugged. Of his jizz dripping out and collecting in your underwear. Of you being an absolute fucking mess under your prim and pristine uniform, because of him.
“Please,” he whined again.
You pulled away and locked the door. “We don’t have a lot of time. Again.”
Buggy bit his lip as you held out your hand to help him up and blubbered what sounded like, “thank you.”
You understood how he felt. So insatiable that nothing mattered more than giving into these desperate needs that aggressively grew out of desire. Giving up on everything but chasing the high, you uncuffed Buggy and undid your pants.
This fucker needed to know the effect his dumbass decision had on others. You shoved his hand down your pants, letting him feel how wildly aroused you were. How much of a mess he made.
His groan was laced with delight and pain at the knowledge. His touch was everywhere, committing all of the evidence of your lust to memory. As his hand crept further, it came in contact with his base and his body jolted at the touch. This was too much.
Yanking his hand out of your pants, Buggy rushed to unbuckle his and expose where his member belonged. Following his lead, you pulled your pants down and turned around. Wary about wasting precious time, Buggy pressed his hips against yours and shuddered when his cock returned to its rightful place. It felt as if his senses increased a hundredfold now that it was back.
“M’close,” he warned, struggling to set a reliable pace.
Honestly, he was about to explode when his hand was down your pants. But he needed this. He needed to feel you moving on his cock. To feel your body react against him. To feel you explode.
As if reading his thoughts, you grabbed his hand and pushed it down. You didn’t need much. This entire time, you didn’t need much, apparently. Just his attention on you was enough to pull you off the trail you were on. And that’s what he gave you - his enthusiastic attention.
His hand moved fervently, following the cues your body gave. The touches that had your breaths teeter on moans, pressure that had your body clench his, sensations that increased the tension in your core.
“Uh-haah, uh-huh, just like that. K-keep going, g-gonna… You’re gonna make me c-” You were cut off as the feeling ripped through your body, sharp and electric. The words in your mouth were wiped away as you fell to the indescribable surge.
Buggy huffed as he struggled to fuck through your orgasm. Your unsaid words rung through his head - he was responsible for this. You were shaking beneath him because of what he did. Your sweet sighs of relief were for him.
“Wh-where-” Buggy could hardly stutter a question he should have asked earlier.
“Finish what you started,” you said, leaning into his touch once again.
Feeling your body melt against his, accepting his thick cock so easily, pulling him deeper - that was more than enough.
“F-fucking shit,” Buggy hissed as he came.
The climax was nearly painful as he shot stream after stream inside your body. Feeling like the release would never end, the pirate clung to you and whimpered with each pulse. Eventually, he ran out. His hold released with a shaky sigh.
Buggy struggled with words to fill the next moment. Something about how this felt good. Maybe a thanks? But before he could decide, yet another loud sound interrupted the moment. A sound that was accompanied by a lurch that threw the pirate back. An explosion. Then came the alarms. The ship was under attack by pirates. You both rushed to fix yourselves up.
“I-I think that’s for me,” Buggy said.
You looked at him incredulously. Was this all a fucking trick?
“I want you to come with me.”
His request kept you silent. This didn’t make sense.
“I didn’t think they were coming. I didn’t mean for it to happen like this. But it was fun - well, I had fun. I think you did too. We can keep having fun, unless you want to keep living this stuffy life.” Buggy spoke quickly.
His explanation was rushed, but you could see a hint of honesty among the turmoil.
Buggy held his hand out for you to grab.
---
Life on a pirate ship was different, but also similar to life with the Marines. Useless meetings couldn’t be avoided and petty drama existed everywhere. But the spirit and passion that came with piracy was unbelievably vast. Joys flew high, parties raged hard, drinks always flowed, treasure was celebrated.
And on Buggy’s ship, there was always more. More life, more color, more light. Dumb jokes, death defying stunts, fantastic skills, and stupid decisions that managed to work out in the end.
One of your favorite things about life aboard the ship were the quiet afternoons you spent with the captain. Afternoons that were spent laying in the shared bed, your body nestled against his. Afternoons full of stories and musings. Afternoons dedicated to the two of you, which you spent slotted together in warmth and intimacy.
#buggy smut#buggy x reader#buggy the clown#buggy x you#buggy the clown x reader#x reader#buggy op#opla buggy#one piece buggy#buggy the clown smut#one piece smut#gender neutral reader#hey-august march madness
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Propaganda
Myrna Loy (The Thin Man, Manhattan Melodrama, Mr Blandings Builds his Dream House)—Started out a slinky silent screen vamp. Became a screwball lead who had a blast drinking, being married to William Powell, solving mysteries, and taking her dog everywhere in the Thin Man Movies. Broke our hearts in The Best Years of Our Lives and played a string of dream wives. Remained hot the entire time. Decades of hotness.
Gracie Allen (A Damsel in Distress, Honolulu)— The funniest woman who ever lived, she was the brains behind an absolutely brilliant radio show that she did with her husband George Burns. The radio show was later turned into a television show (which you can find on Youtube) but during the radio days, it was announced that Gracie would be running for President of the United States for the year of 1940. She was running for the Surprise Party, and refused a Vice President as, according to her, there would be no room for vice in her white house. Her slogan was "Down with common sense -Vote for Gracie Allen." [more about this beneath the cut]
This is round 1 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]
Myrna Loy:
Myrna Loy excelled at playing coy women, so common in screwball comedies in the 40s. She batted her lashes, and shrugged with grace, and made her costars look like foolish heels next to her. She charmed with sneaky elegance, well-placed pouting, and repartee. Besides, she was sultry AF.
While Myrna certainly looked hot in some her earlier vampy exotic bad girl roles, I think shes hottest when her comedic chops got to be displayed. Her dry wit, comedic timing, and subtle facial expressions make her the queen of deadpan snark.
She's just very Mother
So beautiful and popular she was crowned Queen of the Movies in 1936, Myrna Loy was also an amazing actress. She's best remembered for The Thin Man and sequels, where she gets to show off her comedy skills, adding irresistible impish charm to her classic beauty and dancer's figure.
THE SASS
One of the few actresses who managed to successfully transition from silent to talkies, never won an Oscar but was at one time the highest paid woman in Hollywood. Advocated for better roles and pay for Black actors in the 1930s, so passionately anti-Nazi in the 40s she made Hitler's blacklist, spoke out against Joseph McCarthy during the Red Scare, and advocated for fair housing in the 1950s and 1960s, all while being hot as fuck opposite William Powell, Clark Gable, Cary Grant, Spencer Tracy and a whole galaxy of the Hot Vintage Men Poll all-stars.
Cute as a button with so much RIZZ! She and whatsisname in The Thin Man are relationship goals.
She was literally called the Queen of Hollywood! She is so sassy and funny in the whole Thin Man series. Absolutely hot in those, and who doesn’t love a woman who can laugh? She had the sultriest gaze and that style! Also before she was a star she sat as the model for an iconic statue for a school (representing “Fountain of Education”).
the glamour!! the banter!! the comedy!!
She's got this cute kinda scrunched up face AND shes funny AND shes got a bangin body.
Gracie Allen:
Continued from previous propaganda: "We don't want to get rid of men entirely," Allen said, according to a story in the April 22, 1940, Indianapolis Star. "All we want to do is make them unconstitutional and keep them out of circulation, but have them handy when there's no place else to go."
On the Neutrality Bill pending in Congress: "If we owe it, let's pay it." On recognizing Russia: "I don't know. I meet so many people." On which political party she was affiliated with: "I may take a drink now and then, but I never get affiliated.""
She did have to drop out eventually, with World War 2 being on and all, but thousands of people still wrote her in anyway, even if the FDR won the popular vote in the end. (https://www.jsonline.com/story/life/green-sheet/2016/03/31/that-time-a-comedian-won-the-wisconsin-presidential-primary/84944806/)
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help i'm alive
So! Long time, no see. 2023 was a whole goddamn lot lol
I don't have a demo update to share yet, but that's because I had to scrap nearly everything I managed to write during a very, very, very bad stint of writer's block last year. I hadn't even realized it had been a block like that until I went over my work so far last month and realized it was bad -- like, trust me; a slog to read that didn't even sound like me. It's been extremely frustrating but I've finally broken free of that and it's been easy and actually fun to write again for the first time in actual years. I just hate giving updates that have no actual news in them. And I really had nothing to share other than: I deleted thousands of words and feel so much better now 😅
Anyway, little about my demo plans have changed: I'm still putting out the Chapter 3 demos in Choicescript/on Dashingdon and then will be going dark to move things over to Twine. Where I am in the process right now is... feeling like 35% done with the overhauled version of this chapter and 50% done for the next demo update.
As far as asks, I'm... not really sure what to do?? I believe I've read them all (I love you guys), but so much time has passed since getting most of them that I'm not sure if it's, like... still pertinent??? To go back and answer them?? I suppose some of them like character asks could be, but all the nice messages of support -- that feels weird since I've practically ghosted this blog since August! Idk. Y'all tell me what to do with 'em and I'll do it. Maybe I should make a poll.
Uh... that's really all there is to say regarding the game! I've added some personal stuff after the cut, but if you're done here: Thanks for reading and sticking around. It means the world, for real.
So what has occupied my time all this time? Doctor, therapy, money, and friends. And improv! But especially the first two. There was a lot of non-writing related stuff fucking up my ability to focus and write, so hopefully with my mind and body both feeling a lot better, I can get back to being present and active with the game. I didn't realize how physically unwell I was until last year and it's been like... life-long issues I've been treating. It turns out it's not normal to feel exhausted enough to sleep at any given time, at all times, for your whole life! wow!!
I also uninstalled Tumblr from my phone back in February, so you could say I'm sort of generally focused on offline life. (And what an interesting coincidence that my writer's block dissipated shortly after that...) I also just moved!! The last two weekends have been so expensive and stressful -_- But I can't even compare the old place to the new. We're basically paying the same price for idek how much more space. The cats are so happy; which means the house humans get to be happy.
My schedule is finally freed up from constant medical shit (there was a 3-month stretch this winter with multiple doctor appointments literally every fucking week 🙃🙃🙃). My mental health is doing a lot better -- literally incomparably better compared to where I was this time last year. There's live comedy now (which I dabble in, to be clear lol), but I've finally found myself able to like... balance it all. The physical and creative energy that goes into it all, anyway. The lovely thing about improv is that you kinda just show up and do your thing -- it doesn't cut into my writing time so much as it costs energy. Unless I end up in this comedy debate show thing next month, which I am very excited to give up writing time for
So like... Life is life-ing and I'm just vibing. Or something? I'll be around.
Thank you all again so much for your interest, support, patience, and readership <3
#oh and if anyone knows where i can stream mob wives uncensored without paying any extra money i'd love you forever lol#that is unimportant- unless y'all find it important that i have access to all of my most influential pieces of media at all times IJSAYING!#jk jk ofc <3 thank you for reading#conspiracy in emerson#if cie#progress#cie ch 3
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wine red, tears gold - chapter 1.
king aegon II x baratheon ofc
a 'what if aegon didn't get poisoned and the greens technically won the dance but at what cost' au. basically aegon, alicent, otto and jaehaera are the only greens alive. and larys i guess. someone get rid of this guy.
word count: 4.6k
aegon wasn't as badly injured from Rook's Rest like in canon in this AU, he has a few burn scars near his torso but wasn't crippled / bedridden.
this is for my 100 followers poll. it was supposed to be a oneshot but will be a mini series in 3 or 4 parts. this is my first time writing aegon and it will also be somewhat of a character study.
thank you for 100 followers and everyone who participated in the poll. love <3
thank you @randomdragonfires for beta reading, mwah mwah.
content: smut (specifics below cut), canon typical misogyny, canon typical violence, angst, fluff, arranged marriage, touch-staved aegon, aegon isn't a r*pist in this au but he is still a bad person and has his vices, ofc and aegon need to go to therapy together, justice for jaehaera, awkward sex, kind of a slow burn
its been so long - the living tombstone • nobody - mitski
chapter specific warnings: awkward sex, p in v, virginity loss
Every day felt like a new restraint, a new button added to the collar choking around Aegon’s neck. He had done it– he had freed the realm of the false queen, his half-sister– and lost almost everything to do so. When did it end? When did he get to relax and run the realm as he saw fit, since they so intended to have them at the helm. He wore the conqueror’s crown, wielded his sword and bore his name and yet he couldn’t do as the conqueror actually did. Rule. He felt more like a dog than a dragon these days; but that was just a pattern in his life. They wanted him when they needed him and he was to shoulder their burdens as eldest son.
His grandsire kept breathing down his neck to secure another wife, another heir, another alliance brokered with another pompous house.
“Listen to me, Aegon,” Otto began, his fingers laced together as he sat at his desk. He had summoned Aegon to the Tower of the Hand– he was summoning the King, rather than the King summoning him. Somehow, his council had let Otto weasel his way back into the position of Hand, Aegon’s mother in tears, pleading for it. There wasn’t anyone else fit for the job since Criston had died– and he was never really fit for it anyhow. “We must move quickly to provide you with a new wife. The realm won’t remain stable if we tarry in producing an heir for the throne.”
Aegon sat in the seat across from him, feeling more like a child than a King. He twisted the signet ring on his pinky finger. “It’s too soon. It would be an insult to Helaena.” he replied, not looking up at Otto. Helaena had only passed a few moons earlier and the wound was still fresh for all of them. Aegon never loved her like a wife– how could he, they were too different, too young– but he cared deeply for her as his sister and the mother of his children. Even thinking about taking another wife this soon felt like a betrayal. He would be like his father then.
A small huff and a rustling of papers was heard– Aegon was still too distracted by his signet ring, the thin light filtering through the half drawn blinds, causing a small glint off of the bronzed metal. He didn’t want to look up to see the expression on his grandsire’s face, he knew it was one of disappointment. Aegon couldn’t remember the last time that someone hadn’t looked at him with contempt, disappointment, melancholy.
“You must understand. You have a duty to the realm–”
“Fucking duty– don’t speak to me of it. I’ve done my duty for enough lifetimes. I let you put me on the throne and usurp my sister and look where that’s gotten us? Everyone is fucking dead, Otto. Jaehaerys, Maelor, Helaena, Aemond,” he paused for a moment, lifting his head up to meet the Hand’s gaze head on, “Rhaenyra, Rhaenys, Jacaerys, Lucerys, Joffrey– do I need to proceed? The majority of our bloodline is wiped out because of you and your ambition.”
Otto snorted, standing up from his desk slowly. He grabbed a decanter of wine, pouring them both a goblet. “You misunderstand. Everything I’ve done has been… for our family’s legacy– for the realm,” he placed the glass stopped back into the carafe, “Don’t you dare act as if I am not hurting for the loss of family– but war is war, boy. People die. It is unfortunate that… the ones close to us did. But we can’t live with our head in the clouds any longer, there is a realm to run and the crown comes with responsibilities. A wife and heir are one of those paramount responsibilities.”
“I have an heir. I still have one remaining child– Jaehaera is my heir. I deem it.” he spoke quickly, staring at the goblet of wine. He had reduced his intake of alcohol since the war ended– but the need for it was always there, always aching. He suddenly felt parched. Giving Otto a haughty stare, he took a sip from the glass, feeling his muscles instantly relax.
“Don’t be daft– have you so quickly forgotten what happened when the King last named a female heir?”
“It wasn’t that Rhaenyra was a woman, Otto. People would’ve learned to adjust if…” Aegon took another sip, clearing his throat, “If she hadn’t been infatuated with her freak of an uncle, you would’ve been able to control her easier, hm? It's always been you and mother behind the crown these past two decades– not me, nor my father.”
“It’s more complicated than that,” Otto griped back, gripping his glass, “Don’t speak of things you know nothing about. Rhaenyra–” he stopped, taking a breath, “Rhaenyra is dead. They’re all dead, you’re right. But there is still the whole of the Seven Kingdoms requiring a leader, especially now. A leader with a united front with a queen and babe. I won’t argue further on this matter.”
Aegon acquiesced. He would rather deal with Otto’s venomous viper tongue talking him into things he didn’t want to do now instead of his mother visiting him hours later in hysterics– he couldn’t bear it. Alicent was more of a mess now than ever. “Fine. I leave this in your very capable hands,” he stood up, swiping the whole jug of wine, “At least find me a pretty one.”
–
She was plain, unbelievably plain. Long, curled brown hair desperately in need of a trim, a poorly tailored dress that needed to be more fitted at the waist, stature too small and unremarkable to stand up to anyone of importance. Oh, and picked cuticles, the spots of red eking out from her nail beds. Mayhaps she and his mother would get along just jolly, then. She was to be his prospective wife and bear him more heirs. He wanted to shove it back in the council’s face and say he has an heir, his only living child, Jaehaera. Melancholy and withdrawn as she was, she was his heir.
The council disagreed, allowing Borros Baratheon to shove his last unwed daughter at him like a piece of meat that no one wanted.
Her eyes wafted up to glance at him, every move of hers uncertain, cautious. She was so deathly aware of each minute gesture, her posture having to be adjusted to straighten every few minutes.
Lyanna Baratheon wasn’t of prominent knowledge and reputation like her sisters, aptly named ‘the Four Storms’ – she didn’t remind Aegon at all of a stag or a doe, but rather something more diminutive and easily killed, like a prey animal. Mayhaps a rabbit– it would be an apt description, as she had giant eyes, brown –almost black– in their hue, a shiny glaze over them as she stared at the ground. Every so often, their eyes would meet, brown to violet, and she would look apt as Aegon thought she was.
A rabbit begging for its life.
Borros Baratheon stood beside her, murmuring something into her ear. He was a boorish oaf of a man who couldn’t even read– Aegon wasn’t the brightest star in the sky when it came to matters of literature, that’d always been his brother’s realm, but atleast he could fucking read. He thought it quite hysterical that his house sigil was that of a Stag when Lord Borros reminded him more of a boar. Mayhaps he should change it.
As he continued to whisper to his daughter, her expression went from sordid to panicked, then back to sordid. She wasn’t very good at masking her emotions– she would need to learn if she were to survive at the Keep. The tips of her fingers twitched slightly and she was obviously holding herself back from tearing into her nail beds.
“Lord Borros,” Aegon broke the tension, “Perhaps I should show your daughter around the gardens while you speak with my grandsire. We have the most beautiful gardens here and I’d imagine that Storm’s End wouldn’t have something quite as grand,” he glazed over Borros’ blank stare, “due to the storms, of course.”
Lord Baratheon adjusted his doublet, which was far too small for him— did the Stormlands not have a proper fucking tailor? — and nodded, “Yes, that would be amicable. It would do some good to familiarize yourself with one another before the wedding in a week’s time.”
Aegon’s throat felt parched. He knew that they were speeding things along but he didn’t anticipate it to be this fast. Grabbing a bottle of wine from a nearby servant, he descended back to Lyanna, intent on whisking her away as quickly as possible. Not because he found her particularly interesting, rather the opposite, but he needed an excuse to get out of the room. The insistent thrum of his pulse in his neck was all too loud. His arm looped under Lyanna’s, “Come, my lady,” he hummed, trying to seem like he was somewhat collected and kingly and not on the edge of chugging the entire carafe of wine and smashing it over the next poor fucker’s head. “To the gardens.”
He practically strung along the poor girl, who hurriedly agreed and tried her best to keep up. “Y-yes, your grace,” she mewled, her feet tapping on the ground at irregular rhythms as she hung onto Aegon’s arm, bouncing against the stone walkway toward the gardens, “King’s Landing is… very beautiful, my king– your subject must be very pleased.”
As they descended the cobbled steps down to the garden, Aegon eyed her warily, “Did your father tell you to say that?”
“N-no, not exactly–”
“He did. Anyone with half of a brain and a working nose knows that this accursed city smells of shit. You shouldn’t lie, my lady. You’re quite bad at it,” he took a small breath as he looked at her expression– the poor thing was on the verge of tears. “You will get better in time,” he continued with a slightly softer tone, “This Keep is full of great liars and you don’t seem… too much like your father. I am sure you will pick up quickly. How old are you?”
“Nineteen, your grace.”
Aegon resisted giving a derisive snort, instead uncorking the wine bottle and tossing the stopper into the grass, “You’re quite young, then,” he took a swig, feeling the bitter tasting liquid coat his mouth, “All the better for heirs. Or so I’m sure that we’ve both been told.”
In truth, some would consider her a bit late in age to be married– but Aegon didn’t care as long as he wasn’t robbing the cradle like his father did to his mother, or Daemon to Rhaenyra. He was twenty-six himself and tried to remember what he was like when he was nineteen; he couldn’t exactly pinpoint an exact memory. It was mostly a blur.
“I am… hopeful to provide you with many healthy heirs, my king,” she replied, her words sounding rehearsed. She is as poor of an actress as she is a liar, then. She paused for a moment, looking at her hands, “I… do not wish to replace the late queen, her grace, Helaena– I merely wish to fulfill my duty to the realm and my family– I am terribly… sorry to hear about Helaena, my king. As well as your prince brothers. War is a terrible thing.”
Aegon blinked profusely a few times. Her words after her pause sounded genuine– mayhaps she is capable of thinking for herself. She seemed… softhearted, even if a bit naive. He regarded the bottle in his hand for a moment, swishing it around. No one had really apologized to him for his losses– the enumerable amount of them he’s gone through these past few years. They all bowed their heads and wouldn’t meet his gaze, as if their blood was all on his hands. Mayhaps it was. He swallowed, his mouth pursed in a thin line, “... War is indeed a terrible thing, my lady.”
They walked for a few hours around the garden, talking about various things. Aegon still found her quite boring and uninteresting to look at– she wasn’t ugly by any means, and could be considered pretty, but she was just so terribly plain that it bored him to tears. Her speech was all faux and he tried to eek out any genuineness to her words through different subjects– all to no avail. It seemed the sore subject of Aegon’s family was the only thing to break her from her carefully crafted script.
Eventually, they parted ways– for the better, he thought. She was a fine match, a fine age, a fine vessel for his seed to produce a royal heir and whatever other innocuous thing his grandsire needed from him.
What a terribly dreadful life he’s let himself sink into.
That night, he drained two bottles of Dornish Red, falling much into the same state of mind he had when he was nineteen. Wandering to the Street of Silk, he whored and drank himself into a state of sloven mania.
In the midst of his drunken ramblings, he wondered if he could ever find someone who would truly love him or if his opportunity had already passed.
–
The wedding followed in the timeline that Borros and Otto had set– as quickly as possible. The council dipped into the coffers to make it happen, it was to be an extravagant event, a new beginning for the realm. Artisans, fine bakers and cooks were all hired to make the wedding a facet, stringing up red, green, yellow and black banners, making dozens of delicate pastries and even cooking six turduckens to line the tables.
It was all lavish and opulent– and Lyanna could not feel more out of place. The past week at the Keep had been a whirlwind of planning, gown fittings, flower picking. Her sisters were there in attendance, speaking up more than she on what to pick. It was fine with her, as she couldn’t bring herself to care for it. The gaudiness of it all made her feel ill.
She had only met with Aegon the one time, the first time. Lyanna felt she made a terrible impression— she was so nervous that day that she’d vomited twice that morning, all while her father screamed at her to get it right, to say exactly as he told her to. For the most part, she had done just that— played the perfect little puppet for him and said all those empty words that meant nothing.
She was meant to see Aegon at least three more times before the wedding, as there were a few dinners arranged between their two families. He had been absent for all, his mother citing that he was unable to attend for various reasons but nothing overtly specific.
Alicent Hightower was a nice lady— she was warm to Lyanna, talking to her at the dinners when no one else had bothered. She was the person who Lyanna felt most comfortable with in the Keep and was grateful that she was to be her good-mother. Alicent was a bit frayed at the ends from the loss of her other children; she was haunted, her eyes constantly red-rimmed and murmuring prayers under her breath.
The morning of the wedding, Lyanna was summoned to Alicent’s solar to get ready.
She knocked on the door, “Your grace— it’s Lyanna.”
“Come in, my dear,” she called out, a maid opening the door to let her in. “How are you feeling this morn?” Alicent was perched on the settee when Lyanna came in, and immediately rushed over to her, taking the young girl’s hands in hers.
“Quite nervous,” Lyanna responded, her hands quivering ever so slightly, even under the warm touch of Alicent. “May I speak plainly, your grace?”
“Of course,” she ushered Lyanna to the loveseat and had the maid pour them both tea, then promptly shooed her out. “It’s just us now, speak your mind, sweetling.”
“I-I am afraid that… Aegon will not like me. I fear I didn’t make a good first impression— he seemed quite bored of me.”
Alicent took a sip of her tea, giving a small sigh. “I will do you the favor of not sugarcoating words and speak plainly like you have done with me. Aegon will not like you,” she pursed her lips into a thin line, twisting the signet ring on her finger, “Aegon is a creature of debauchery and sin— and you are a good, pious girl. You are like oil and water.” her brown eyes met Lyanna’s, her expression softening. The two women had a fast camaraderie, praying together each morning in the Sept. “You… may not love him, or even like him— but there is a duty upon you to fulfill. It is a burden we carry as women, my dear. We are always behest to the men in our lives,” she stopped, her eyes glazing over with a far-away look, “I don’t mean to be discouraging. You are a… good hearted young woman and I believe you can channel that into something positive as the Queen.”
Lyanna felt her stomach quivering at Alicent’s words, her skin flushing. “I… appreciate your plain speech, your grace. I just… do not wish to displease him.”
Alicent’s mouth twitched at each end as if she were mulling something over. “It will be hard to please him, my dear. You are nothing like the women that usually please him,” she wiped a hand down her face, “You remind me so much of myself, Lyanna. Pushed into something you are… ill-suited for. You’re a sweet and kindhearted girl and I don’t wish for you to tear yourself apart on the inside and feel as if you’re not good enough for him– you are, you are too good for him, too pure, too-” Alicent took a measured breath, “You are not what he wants and you never will be, my dear. It will do you well to know that now rather than years later. There is always someone else in their eyes– women like you and I do what we can. I pray you will find things that keep you happy.”
Lyanna picked up her tea cup with trembling hands, taking a sip. There seemed to be more to Alicent’s words than them just being about Aegon– but she didn’t want to push it. Dipping her head, she thanked her good-mother-to-be once more.
–
“Wake up, wake up!” a voice boomed, rousing Aegon from his haze as a carafe of cold water was poured on him. The girl latched to his cock like a leech let out a shrill scream and scrambled away.
“Fucking hell– who the fuck?” Aegon slurred, blinking profusely half a dozen times before his vision came into focus. It was one of the Kingsguard, one more behest to his grandsire than him– and his grandsire, Otto, who had the now empty container of water in hand.
“Wake up, you ingrate,” Otto growled, grabbing his grandson by his collar, hoisting him up onto his feet, smacking his cheek gently. “Your wedding is in two hours and you’re passed out in a whorehouse. You’re the king, for the Seven’s sake– I thought you left this debauchery behind, atleast have your whores at the keep instead of being in these pits of sin.”
“You can put a number of different hats on a bear, you know,” Aegon slumped against the wall, “Many kinds of hats; a hood, a felted dante, a linen coif, a cowl, a straw hat, a jester’s garb– heh, that’d be quite funny–”
“Is there a point to your drunken babbling, Aegon?”
“Yes, ah– you can put many types of hats on a bear and change its look but at the end of the day, its still just a fucking bear,” he straightened out his stained tunic, “Point being– you can stick a crown on my head, put a sword in my hand and put me through a war to keep me on that fucking throne but guess what, grandsire, I am still just a bear at the end of the day.”
Otto stared at him, brow furrowed. “You aren’t a bear, you’re a dragon and a king, so act like it. You are getting married in two hours and you look like a sloven mess. You’re lucky that Borros is as blind for power and recognition as he is or he would take his daughter back to Storm’s End and you’ll be stuck with the next best choice.”
“That boring rube of a girl was my best choice? I must be fucked, then, either way.”
Otto and his Kingsguard dog dragged Aegon back to the keep, and observed while maids scrubbed him clean, red and raw. He was put in a nicely fit green suit, his House cloak strapped to his shoulders. It was a whirlwind of events that led up to the doors of the Sept being opened and Aegon ushered in.
His stomach churned and he felt sixteen again, forced to wed his sister. He remembered being hardly conscious throughout the ceremony, fumbling over his cloak and practically smothering Helaena in it.
He looked down the aisle at Lyanna, who was dressed in a pale yellow dress with long, flowing sleeves. She had a high collar with black lining and antler embroidery all over the garment. It was actually well fitted this time, likely thanks to his mother, and it turned out she actually had a figure, with plush hips and a well-endowed chest. Her brown hair was half up, half down with an assortment of intricate braids– it reminded him of how Rhaenyra used to wear her hair and he wondered who thought to style it like that, and he wondered if he was the only one who noticed.
As he walked down the aisle, he saw his mother in the front row– she was crying, thumbing a pendant in the shape of a Seven Pointed Star.
The ceremony was a blur to him, as he put the cloak over her shoulders and sealed their union with a kiss– a chaste one. She tasted like lavender tea. As he pulled back, he noticed that her eyes were rimmed with tears, and he felt the familiar sting of tears in his own eyes.
The feast was much the same, as he drank himself into a numbing stupor. He only had one moment of clarity, as some of the rowdy guests began to poke and prod at Lyanna, talking about the bedding ceremony. She looked visibly uncomfortable, picking at her nail beds under the table. Something about the sight of her discomfort and pain stirred something in Aegon that he couldn’t name– maybe he was feeling sentimental from the alcohol, but a surge of possessiveness flowed through him. He wasn’t known to be possessive, much the opposite in fact. But the egregious actions of these men pawing at his wife– their fucking queen, mind them– making disgusting insinuations. If she were a whore, it’d be different– but she was so… innocent, so coerced in all of this just as he was, it felt wrong.
Aegon snapped, slamming his cup down, “There won’t be any fucking bedding ceremony,” he growled, “My wife and I will be retiring to our chambers– alone. And if… any one of you lays another paw on her, you will lose it.”
Lyanna stared at Aegon, those huge brown eyes wide. Her lips were parted slightly as he once again strung her along the halls to his– no, their– chambers. She was shaking.
Once in their chambers, he let go of her, uncorking another bottle of wine and taking a swig. “I presume you think that this is where I will fuck you, hm? Stick my prick in you and make an heir and we will all live happily ever after like a child’s storybook.”
Lyanna stared down at her feet. “It… it would be… the duty of husband and wife to consummate–”
“Fuck duty! I’m not going to fuck some weepy eyed maiden because my old fuck grandsire said so. I don’t have need of you in that way.”
Her hands were trembling as she unlaced the back of her dress, her movements autonomous– she was doing what she thought she should be doing in this situation. She began to undress, slipping her gown off and leaving her in her silken shift, which didn’t leave much to the imagination. The sight of her body, soft, stirred something within him for a moment, like a spark trying to ignite kindling.
“We don’t have to do this, Lyanna,” he murmured, using her name for the first time. He put down the wine bottle. “We can wait.”
“N-no! Please, I want to– please,” Lyanna whispered, practically pleading for it, as if she wanted to get it over with. “Please.”
Aegon rubbed a hand down his face. “Get on the bed then. Lie on your stomach.”
She did as she was told, laying flat on the bed on her stomach. She clutched some pillows as a lifeline.
He knew he should warm her up, he knew that they should want to touch one another, he should want to see her face– but he didn’t. He couldn’t bear to look at her face, or touch her for longer than was necessary. He barely shimmied down his trousers before he began poking at her entrance with a half-hard cock, partially trying to give her a moment to get used to the sensations, and partially trying to find where he was supposed to stick it– he knew, of course, he’d fucked his way through King’s Landing and then some, but he hadn’t fucked many maidens, and especially not when he was blind drunk.
Eventually, he hit home and slid into her, his movements slow at first. He could hear her whimpers and knew they weren’t of pleasure. It reminded him of his wedding night with Helaena where they’d both cried– all the memories of that night came flooding back, causing him to falter.
Lyanna looked back at him, her eyes puffy and red, “I-Is it over?”
Aegon swallowed sharply, cringing as he stared at her. The moment of arousal he had– purely from stimulation alone– was gone now, his half-hard erection deflating completely. “Fuck– yes, it’s over.” he didn’t have the heart to tell her that it in fact had hardly started before it was over– and not in the good way. He pulled out of her, taking in a deep breath as he walked to the water basin and soaked a cloth with warm water, offering it to her. “Wipe yourself– it will help with the… pain… and blood.”
She took the cloth, wiping away the remnants of their half-fulfilled consummation. “I-I’m… sorry,” Lyanna whispered, sniffling, “I know I am not what you want.”
His mouth was pulled into a thin line as he turned away. “You’re right. You aren’t.”
They fell into bed next to each other and Aegon’s mind was swimming as he tried to sleep. He didn’t know what he wanted. He never wanted any of this– he just wanted to be a kid again with no responsibilities, with all of his siblings, even Rhaenyra– he would’ve… he would’ve been nicer to all of them, he wouldn’t of picked on Aemond, he would’ve gotten to know Rhaenyra better, he would’ve played with Helaena’s bugs, he would’ve taught Daeron all of the secrets of the castle. He would’ve told his grandsire to fuck off when they were to crown him and had Sunfyre char him to a crisp and given the crown to Rhaenyra.
He would’ve been loved then.
He just wanted to be loved.
#aegon ii targaryen#aegon ii targaryen fanfic#aegon ii targaryen fanfiction#aegon ii targaryen smut#aegon ii targaryen angst#aegon ii targaryen fluff#aegon ii x reader#aegon ii#aemond targaryen#hotd#house of the dragon#my writing#wine red tears gold
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People who like super seriously neg post about genloss are so funny to me. Like this is the project of like a 19 year old streamer with no previous acting experience full of other people with no acting experience, that is literaly like 90% live improv, and ppl on here will watch it and then be like "wow the lighting is like so amateur and some of the props are not realistic and their acting is bad" like sorry did you expect a movie?? Your suspension of disbelief is so low, do you watch an ameteur production theater play and think "everyone in this theater needs to watch better plays" when they clap?
Of course we can see that there are some bad acting moments, that there are some moments that miss, that it may be too brightly lit or could use some more creative lighting in some places, and that the vibe isn't quite it in some parts, but you can say that and be so normal about it, like uhh, me right now. But it's still a HUGE achievement, and shows you can push the quality of content on twitch, I think you forget. Yeah. This is a fucking twitch show. It's not one of the mainstream movies or shows or books you recommend, and it's stupid to compare some like 19-20 year old streamers passion project on fucking twitch to literal horror classics.
"dsmp fan syndrome" have you concidered we just like fun. If you didn't like generation loss you shouldn't have watched it. "sorry you were lied to" no. Ranboo, Charlie and everyone who hyped the show up were right. This show may not be the best work, and one day it might not even be ranboos best work, because its just the brginning of something awesome, live high quality productions on twitch are going to get insane, Jerma has already set the bar very high with dollhouse, and I think Ranboo is doing a great job.
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Grief (A Friend Indeed) Part 5
Thank you for all the great responses to this story it really means a lot.
Now they are doing a singing thing in this chapter, it's not that chapter yet. This is a prelude to that. Plus, I wanted to have Steve sing "Somebody' by Depeche Mode off the same album him and Lauren were talking about in the last chapter. Change the pronouns and it's definitely about all things Steve loves about Eddie.
I also added Lauren singing "Here Comes the Rain Again" from the suggestion in the poll because it's such a great song.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
***
Steve questioned the wisdom of going out to a bar their first day in Ashland, tired as both Eddie and he were. But at the same time it was also nice to get out and just have fun.
Apparently Danny’s brother Hal ran the joint so Lauren, Eddie, and he could come in. As long as they didn’t try and get booze they were fine to do anything else. Pool, darts, and even a little stage for people to sing.
Hal told them that he tried to get one of those newfangled karaoke machines but that they were on back order until Christmas. But they were more then welcome to sing their heart out to jukebox in the corner.
Lauren got up there and sang Here Comes the Rain Again by the Eurythmics.
“Falling on my head like a new emotion,” she crooned, just as low and melodic as Annie Lennox. “I wanna walk in the open wind. I wanna talk lovers do. Want dive into you ocean, is it raining with you?”
“Are all you Munsons talented in the music department?” Steve asked Eddie as he watched Lauren continue to belt out the song.
Eddie laughed. “No. I don’t know about my dad, but Wayne can’t carry a tune to save his life.”
“Maybe he’s talented in other ways,” Steve said with a wink. “Who taught you how to play guitar?”
Eddie ran his tongue over the top row of his teeth. “He did.”
“Uh huh,” Steve said with a grin. “And who bought you your first guitar?”
He sighed. “He did.”
“Sounds to me like he’s a good teacher if nothing else,” Steve finished with a grin.
“God you’re so annoying when you’re right,” Eddie huffed.
“That’s because I rarely am and so when that happens, I get to gloat.”
Lauren came bouncing back to the table. “Who’s next?”
“Toss you for it?” Steve said.
“You’re on.”
Eddie pulled out a quarter. “Heads or tails?”
“Heads.”
Steve watched as the coin sailed into the air and Eddie deftly catch it in his large hand. He slapped in on the top of his other hand.
“Tails!’ Eddie crowed. “You’re next, pretty boy!”
Steve leaned over and looked at the coin. He rolled his eyes and marched over to the jukebox, beginning to pour over the choices. He picked one and walked up to the stage.
He grabbed the microphone as the first notes came through the tinny jukebox speakers.
Eddie watched in awe. He had never heard Steve sing. Not really, fooling around in the car and being annoying for the kids wasn’t the same as what he was seeing in front of him.
“Did you know he could sing like that?” Lauren asked, not taking her eyes off the stage. “God, he could make money off that voice.”
Eddie could only agree. “I’ve never heard him like this.”
“She will listen to me when I want to speak about the world we live in and life in general,” Steve sang, his eyes half closed as he leaned into the microphone, one hand raised. “Though my views may be wrong, they may even be perverted she’ll hear me out and won’t easily be converted to my way of thinking. In fact, she’ll often disagree, but at the end of it all she will understand me.”
Lauren looked over at Eddie. “You know this is on that album him and I were talking about earlier. The Depeche Mode one.”
Eddie turned to her. “The one with the song he listened to a billion times?”
She nodded. “It’s called Lie to Me. It’s where the album title comes from. That girlfriend, the one with the dead friend, she really fucked him up, didn’t she?”
Eddie sighed. “I wasn’t there for that. We didn’t become friends until way after that. But yeah, I’m beginning to see exactly how much she fucked him up.”
She looked up at Steve crooning the last lines of the song. “Do you think if the world was different he would have changed the pronouns of the song?”
Eddie looked back at Steve as he bowed to thunderous applause. “You know, think he just might have.”
He stood up and greeted Steve with a hug. “Holy shit, man. That was amazing. Where did you learn to sing like that?”
Steve just blushed. “It’s your turn now.”
He went up to Hal and whispered something to him. Hal nodded.
Eddie got on stage and Hal came from behind with a small amp and a black-bodied electric guitar. He handed the guitar to Eddie and then began fiddling with the amp.
“Hey, guys,” Eddie said into the microphone. “Some of you might remember me, I’m Hal’s nephew, Eddie and I play metal.”
He started the opening riff to Run to the Hills and belted out the lyrics. Everyone was on their feet in an instant, Steve and Lauren with them.
Steve was cheering and laughing. It was nice to see Eddie play again after that horrific spring break from literal hell.
As soon as he was done he handed the guitar back to Hal and stepped off the stage.
“You are a beast, Eddie Munson,” Steve said, pounding him on the back when he got back to their table.
Eddie shoved his hair into his mouth to hide his blush. “Thanks.”
Steve ordered another round of sodas for them as they got to talking about their musical influences and who they would love to meet.
It hit ten o’clock and Hal was ushering them out as well as couple other under-aged kids who were there playing darts.
Once they hit the pavement Steve asked about it.
“Anyone under twenty-one always gets kicked out at ten,” Lauren explained. “It’s always been one of Uncle Hal’s rules since he bought this place when I was ten.”
Eddie nodded. “He doesn’t want anyone getting hurt for when the alcohol really starts flowing.”
“Too bad the funeral wasn’t next week,” Lauren said, shoulder checking him. “Then you could’ve stayed later.”
“Your birthday is next week?” Steve asked. “Why didn’t I know that?”
Eddie blushed.
“Because this weirdo doesn’t like to celebrate his birthday,” Lauren teased.
“Look,” Eddie said, “having a summer birthday sucks, okay? Especially if all you have is school friends who don’t give you their phone numbers or their addresses so you can invite them. And by the time you get old enough for that not to be a problem, you just don’t care anymore.”
Steve nodded. “I can understand that. My parents never really celebrated birthdays and by the time I got friends that wanted to celebrate, I learned very fast that it was for my big house and the expectation of an even bigger party.”
“Ouch,” Lauren said with a wince. “Maybe you two should pick a date to be your birthdays and celebrate whenever you want. It doesn’t have to be the actual date you were born. A lot of people that have birthdays on holidays and on leap years do it that way.”
“Oohh,” Steve said to Eddie, “yours should be March 27th.”
Eddie threw his head back and laughed. “Then when would yours be?”
Steve thinks about for a moment. “Either 3rd or 12th of November I guess.”
“Why those dates?” Lauren asked looking between them in curiosity.
“The third is when I chose my found family over a life of peace,” Steve explained.
“And the 12th?” Eddie asked.
Steve scoffed and shook his head. “That was the day I knew I was meant for more in life then dodging bad parents, letting my friends be assholes, and smoking and drinking my life away. I didn’t realize it then, of course. But yeah, that day means a lot.”
Eddie closed his eyes. “Steve...”
He shook his head. “It’s fine. I don’t miss who I was.”
Lauren was even more confused because they seemed to be talking about something deeper than what was actually said.
“This has to do with all the bullshit Hawkins went through, right?” she asked. “The lab, the gas leak, the earthquake. That’s what you’re talking about?”
Eddie and Steve looked at each other and nodded.
“Something like that,” Eddie confirmed.
*
The next morning while Steve was on the phone with Robin, Lauren dragged Eddie into her room.
“Look, you don’t have to like the music,” she explained handing him a cassette tape.
Eddie looked at the tape. Some Great Reward by Depeche Mode, he sighed.
“But at least listen to it,” she said. “I have it queued to that song he mentioned, Lie to Me. Even if you don’t listen to the rest of it, I think you should hear that one. I think you’ll learn more about your friend.”
“Laurie...” he said with a sigh. “If he wanted me to know, he would have told me, don’t you think?”
“That depends,” she said. “Do you like his ex?”
Eddie reared back is head with a frown. Did he like Nancy? He guessed well enough. He had come to respect her, at the very least. He liked Steve more, sure. But yeah, if she called to go see a movie, he wouldn’t turn her down.
“Yeah, I guess.”
Lauren grabbed him by the arms and maneuvered him to sit on her bed. “I have known Steve for less than twenty four hours and I can already tell he’s the most self-sacrificing idiot since Jesus fucking Christ.”
Eddie opened his mouth to protest, but she raised an eyebrow and he was forced to concede her point, waving his hand at her.
“So believe me,” she continued, “when I say that he hasn’t told you shit about what went down with his ex is because he doesn’t want to ruin things between you and her.”
Eddie nodded. “I know it’s a big fucking ask...” he sighed. “But see if you can find out what happened, maybe he’ll tell you and you can at least give me advice on how to navigate that mine field so I’m accidentally blowing up shit.”
Lauren nodded. “I can’t guarantee shit, but yeah, I’ll try.” She sat down next to him and leaned around to look him in the eyes. “He means a lot to you, doesn’t he?”
Eddie clasped his hands together and nodded, pursing his lips.
“Does he know about your…certain proclivities?” She looked up at the door to make sure no one was around.
He did the same and then nodded again, not trusting himself to speak.
“And he’s okay with that?” Lauren pressed.
“His best friend is gay and encouraged me to come out to him, too,” Eddie said. “He’s a really good dude.”
Lauren pressed her lips together and thought for a moment. “Are you in love with him?”
Eddie sighed. “Yeah, yeah I am.”
Then they heard running up the stairs and suddenly Steve was the door.
“Hey guys,” he said. “Penny told me to come get you both, she needs help preparing for the wake tonight.”
Eddie and Lauren shared a glance.
“We’ll be right there, Stevie,” Eddie said with a smile.
Steve nodded and dashed back down the stairs.
“Do you think he heard?” Lauren asked, staring at the place Steve was once standing.
Eddie just shrugged. He couldn’t have, could he? They heard him come up the stairs, after all.
Right?
***
Pt 6|Pt 7|Pt 8|Pt 9|Pt 10|Pt 11|Pt 12
Some people love having a summer birthday. Growing up, I most certainly did NOT. As for the dates Steve brings up Nov. 12 1983 is the day he chose to run back inside the Byers house and battle a demogorgon. Nov 3rd 1984 is when Dustin intercepts Steve's apology to Nancy to help him find Dart. Both are very significant to Steve in his journey to be a better person.
Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @messrs-weasley @goodolefashionedloverboi @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @emly03 @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @vecnuthy @littlewildflowerkitten @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @gutterflower77 @genderless-spoon @hel-spawn @ellietheasexylibrarian @anne-bennett-cosplayer @mamafaithful @yikes-a-bee
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by popular demand (aka the 63 people who voted "yes" in my poll (six months ago oops) for whether or not i should do this)
here's why ofmd is a romcom, beat by beat
so for the purposes of this analysis, the ten stages outlined in this article are what i'm using for reference.
(and for the sake of everyone's dashes, i've added a cut because This Got Long. like, genuinely, 1.6k and 24 images. you've been warned.)
1. Unfulfilled Desire: something important is missing from the love interests' lives.
before the love interests meet, both of their lives are lacking in some way, often in a way they hardly realize. and this unfulfilled desire doesn't have to be romantic love in and of itself, and quite often it's not. and the things missing from ed and stede's lives are not romantic love. not at first.
what stede's missing is skill and structure. to put it bluntly, he has no idea what the fuck he's doing as a pirate, and without the guidance of someone more experienced, he'd likely get himself and his whole crew killed soon.
meanwhile, what ed's missing is interest. he's just about as bored with his life as anyone can be. every day is the same, and he needs something new—a new environment, a new challenge—to bring the spark back into his life.
2. Meet-Cute: the love interests meet, and at first, their personalities clash.
now, granted... in most meet-cutes, one of the protagonists isn't like three-quarters dead and nearly unconscious. but, as we know, ofmd is not like most shows.
but when we fast forward a bit to their real proper first meeting, we can quickly start to see how their personalities differ. in many meet-cutes, the love interests start off on bad terms, but in ofmd it's more of a contrast than a real clash, as stede and ed take a liking to each other right away.
in their very first conversation, stede is self-conscious and fretting, while ed is relaxed as can be. and as they talk, ed is in awe of stede's eccentricities, and stede is in awe of ed's powerful reputation.
and nothing exemplifies their contrast better than what they spend the rest of the episode doing—literally switching clothes and switching roles, getting a taste of what it would be like to be each other.
3. Happy Together: the love interests spend time together and grow to enjoy each other's company.
the classic honeymoon phase—not necessarily denoting romance yet, just a bond that continues to grow stronger the more time they spend together.
one of their first, biggest bonding events, just a few days after they met, is of course the fancy french party. while the night ends in disaster, the two end up much closer after the experiences they shared.
however, i think by far the best example of this stage is the montage at the beginning of episode 6, narrated by none other than my favorite (derogatory) terrible little rat man, izzy hands, who will become relevant soon. in romcoms, this stage is often shown through montages, so it only makes sense that that would be a great demonstration of it here as well.
4. Obstacles Arise: the love interests' original lives and obligations catch back up with them.
it's no longer possible to avoid the hard truths their happiness let them ignore. while both ed and stede go through this, i think stede goes through it differently and at different, non-linear times, so i'll talk about him first.
the pre-edward life that stede has been forcing to the back of his mind is, quite obviously, his wife and children back on land. and he's done a very effective job of ignoring it while he's been around ed.
he was fretting about it before—like in episode 2 with nigel's guilt ghost—but it doesn't seem to fully hit him again until he learns in episode 9 that he'd been declared dead. (in my opinion, the dreams/flashbacks in episode 4 feel less about stede's guilt, specifically, than these other instances do. but even if they are, that's still before he properly met ed.) so he does go through this stage, but it happens in slightly different ways and at different times.
ed, on the other hand, has a very specific and concrete obligation that catches up with him: a promise he made two weeks ago.
this is where izzy comes in. just as mary is the personified symbol of stede's old life, izzy is the equivalent for ed. whether ed initially intended to follow through on the plan or only said it to placate izzy is up for debate (and my personal take is that it's somewhere in between, but that's a story for another time), but izzy is going to hold him to it regardless.
and when ed can't bring himself to do it, because of both his growing feelings for stede and his trauma around killing people himself, izzy is determined to carry out the act for him.
5. The Journey: the love interests face and overcome the obstacles together.
what better way to overcome adversity than by getting thumbtacked to a mast by the same Very Angy Little Guy who's the source of the adversity in the first place? with izzy banished, the biggest obstacle to ed and stede's love is out of the way (for now).
stede still hasn't overcome his big obstacle, of course, but as i said, that happens very non-linearly with regard to the romcom structure.
the two also overcome other minor obstacles, like their bickering during the treasure hunt adventure. the key is that they face what's in their path and settle into a new normal with each other.
6. New Obstacles: despite solutions seeming effective, more hardships arise.
the next big issue thrown into ed and stede's relationship has a name, and its name is calico jack rackham, my favorite (affectionate) dumpster fire of a man. which makes sense—after all, his sole purpose in meeting up with them was to separate them before the english navy arrived. and he does a damn effective job of it.
and even once he's gone, they're still faced with chauncey badminton, stede's near-execution, and his and ed's eventual surrender to the english. they may have escaped chauncey's wrath (for now), but they bought it at the cost of their freedom.
and on top of all of that, now they finally confess their feelings for each other and make plans to run away together, and the choice—really, stede's choice—of whether or not to go through with running off to china looms in the distance. speaking of which…
7. The Choice: the love interests have to decide if the relationship can work.
a turning point is reached, and a decision has to be made. can they go through with it? are they really the best thing for each other?
the choice stede makes here is helped along in no small part by chauncey badminton, whose encounter just solidifies the beliefs stede already held—that he abandoned his family, and that ed is better off without him.
so stede makes the choice to run.
he goes home to his family, and ed is left to return to the ship alone.
8. Crisis: the love interests—now apart—ruminate and face the consequences of their choice.
the winter of their discontent. stede has made his choice, they've separated, and they're both worse off for it.
ed is depressed, retreating to his blanket fort and writing sad songs while eating marmalade.
and meanwhile, stede is back with mary and the kids, but learns that they'd all moved on and were much happier without him around. so he's left trying to force himself back into a space where he no longer fits, and all the while he misses ed more than anything.
and of course, ed takes it one step further by going full emo kraken mode. he's so distraught about stede leaving that he too forces himself back into the shell of what people expect of him—of what he was supposed to be before he even met stede—despite not fitting there anymore.
it's obvious that without each other, they're both in pretty rough shape.
9. Epiphany: one or both of the love interests conclude that they belong together and rush to reunite.
think of this stage as the person running through the airport to reach their love interest before the flight leaves.
in ofmd, it's clear who has the epiphany, because we watch it happen in real time. stede sits down with mary and asks her how it feels to be in love, and while she describes it, all he can think of is his time with ed. he finally realizes that what he's been feeling all along is love.
once he knows this, he knows he has to leave his family again, so he can reunite with ed. he and mary stage their fuckery, and stede rows off in a dinghy bound for wherever ed is, because he knows that as long as he's with ed, he'll be happy and everything will be okay.
10. Resolution: the love interests are reunited. desires are fulfilled, and all is well.
sooo… stay tuned for october 5th, i suppose?
#the show is the relationship y'all#our flag means death#ofmd#ofmd meta#ofmd analysis#stede bonnet#edward teach#blackbeard#blackbonnet#gentlebeard
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Sinner Of Fate
The Before: Act 1, Scene 1
A Yandere!Getou x Isakai’d!Reader x Yandere Gojo ft. Yandere Jujutsu Kaisen characters, platonically and romantically
Prologue, Act 1: Scene 1(here)
First poll for the story here —> More Love?
Warning: Spoilers for both manga and Anime, each chapter is gonna contain spoilers.
The card in Getou bursts into flames causing him to open his palm as a sharp pain surges through his hand. His eyes were glued to the card watching as it glided to the tatami floor until it was gone leaving nothing behind. ‘Wait… tatami… floors?’ realization settles in. The once bright sun no longer shines over him. The once concrete floor was replaced with a familiar tatami flooring.
Getou felt something grab his pants, snapping out he looks to see a small hand that belonged to little girl with light brown hair and standing next to her was another girl with black hair. Both were scared, bruised, and dressed in rags. Whatever Getou was feeling was gone remembering where and what he was doing, but he froze glances behind him to see two dead bodies of man and woman.
‘I fucked up big time… but they deserved it… No that’s not…’ Getou was stuck battling with his thoughts. ‘What Will You Do?’ He was stumped, unsure of where those words came from. ‘Will You Run and Hide Or Face It?”
Getou closes his eyes and takes a shaky but deep breath moving to pulling out his phone can calling the one person he can trust. Just before the first ring could finish the person on the other end picks up.
“Suguru!?”
“Satoru… I… I messed up… Big time.”
”Where are you?”
“Getou!?” “Getou?”
Suguru opens his eyes to see Nanako look at him with annoyance while Mimiko looked with confusion. He felt a sharp pain on the back of head and when he look to see Satoru and Tsumiki, she was giving Megumi a piggy back, close by with a stupid grin on his face.
”Where’d you go? Don’t tell me you backing out, you promised the twins to get some baked goods.” Satoru stated as Nanami nodding her head along.
Suguru lets out a laugh, “Sorry, had a strong sense of Deja Vu.” It was half true, he couldn’t help but get this strange feeling he’s been here before despite having no recollection whatsoever.
”Pfft, whatever.” Satoru rolled eyes even though no one could see it.
”I thought it was just me,” Mimiko says.
”Me too!” Nanako added.
Tsumiki joins, “My classmates had experience something and our teacher share that Deja Vu could be you sharing a memory with an alternate version of yourself.”
Satoru feeling left out throws his arms around Suguru pulling him into a hug, ”Aww, even in a different universe your with me!”
”Uh, I was talking about Nanako and Mimiko calls out to me when I zoned out,” Suguru shared causing Satoru to cry out.
Despite the group was standing by the door to your shop and could look out your window. You watched them through a book that displayed it as a security monitor. Sighing in relief, you moved your hand to rub your forehead feeling a headache coming on.
“So… I’m confused why do we remember you changing things but they don’t or anyone else?” Toji asks looming over you from behind the couch you sat on. Amanai was sitting on your left sit and Haibara was on the right side.
Fushiguro Toji, Amanai Riko, and Haibara Yu. Three who were set to die are alive and well, living in your two-story shop. For unknown reasons gravitated towards your shop after having saved them from their demise using dreamscape, an alternate reality. Even when they have no memory of you, especially since you didn’t want anyone one to know your existence, merely seeing you triggers suppressed memories to surface.
You had told them the your purpose was to change their fates and others, not about you being from another world, and hope they would leave afterwards. Not to your surprise, Amanai and Haibara wanted to help you while Toji insisted on you needing a protecter for when the Jujutsu Society catch’s wind of your abilities and future knowledge. He was not wrong, for what your told by the other Sinners that certain people wouldn’t be as affected by memory loss due to the changes. You deduced Kenjaku is one: each sinner had described different people with a similar scare on the forehead, possibly Tengen and Tsukumo Yuki may not be as affected as well.
”I know Getou won’t remember what he’s done, I just can’t help worry.” Amanai chimed.
”Technically, he didn’t do anything since he called Gojo instead of deserting Jujutsu, right?” Haibara question to no one in particular.
”No, Getou in fact did but using dreamscape to alternate the past he shouldn’t remember our interactions prior.” You stated, standing up and moved past Amanai heading towards the stairs leading down into the shop. “Theoretically, even if he doesn’t remember a part of his mind will, but it would be like nightmares, thoughts of ‘what if’s’, and commonly Deja Vu. The chances of him realizing are slim.” At least you hoped, you were quite sure how it works seeing as you have three prime examples. No matter, it was the least of your worries just in case you would have to avoid Getou for some time.
“Ya, I still don't get it.” Toji replied but you ignore him.
All this stress was getting to, you wanted to go and get something to eat. Be alone with your thoughts but Toji seems adamant being by your side at every moment. ‘Five minutes, just Five.’ You thought knowing Toji is right behind you, already dressed in a hoodie and mask to hide his identity because to the world he was still dead along with Amanai and Haibara.
All of this because you had to mess around on some AI Chat. You just wanted to go home, back before you got curious, back to where this was just a fictional story.
#female reader#jujustsu kaisen x reader#gojo x reader x geto#getou suguru x reader#gojou satoru x reader#yandere geto#yandere gojo#yandere jujutsu kaisen#mimiko and nanako#megumi fushiguro#toji fushiguro#fushiguro tsumiki#riko amanai#haibara yu#geto suguru#gojo satoru#getou x gojo
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Imma do this final vent and then I’ll shut up about it.
This was a dumb move, from every possible perspective.
In the og goodbye video, they really made it sound like they were doing the streaming service because they wanted to go bigger, make cooler videos, really see what they could do and let their creative vision take the lead.
Growing as an artist is what you do when you Already Have The Money To Do So. You don’t tell your audience “give me money and then I will use to it to make cooler bigger things”. That’s not a streaming service, that’s a kickstarter.
They didn’t have the numbers to pull a streaming service off either. “We think we’re ready for television quality content” no you don’t. Sorry, no you do not. Television quality content means 30-50 crew per project, means at least 4-5 production being worked on at the same time, and at least 4-5 productions being broadcast at the same time. Watcher has maybe 2 series they upload simultaneously and they have 25 employees TOTAL. Not even CLOSE to tv levels of content, who the fuck do you think you are???
Did they really think all 3 million of their subscribers were going to follow them on this? Including kids, whose spending is dependent on their parents? Including the casuals, who only subscribed for the occasional video? Including people for whom $6 dollars on another streaming service just isn’t an option? Why DIDN’T they poll this, was this being a surprise really that important??
AND why would you completely cut off another revenue? Even if YouTube is restrictive, it’s still another source of income. Cutting that off completely is… bold.
Especially since in the apology, they let it slip that no, actually, it’s because Watcher is on the brink of having to close up shop because they’re not making enough money with just the patreon, the merch sales, the ad reads, etc.
So… one of those is a lie. Or at least part of the truth.
But let’s assume they are in financial trouble, then this was still the dumbest they could’ve done.
Welcome to the entertainment industry where we follow 1 giant fucking rule: Kill Your Darlings.
Fellas, pals, amigos, bros, dudes. If your projects spend more than what they make, it’s time to downsize. Not upscale. Cut the shit that’s spending the most money, start concentrating on how you can conserve without having to fire your crew. Put the projects where you have to fly out and buy new stuff all the time on the back burner, you can get back to them once you actually have the money for them. Work with what you already have. You have a MASSIVE studio space, fuckin use it. You HAVE sets, you HAVE props, you HAVE talent and you have ideas.
Start workshopping all the crazy and shit ideas you thought weren’t gonna work and start thinking how you could make them work with the lowest possible budget you can have. Your audience is there, they’ll watch whatever you throw at them. Now is the time to go crazy and see what sticks. You HAVE viewership.
Collab. CONSTANTLY. Get it the fuck out there that you exist. A lot of people had no idea a patreon existed, mention it ALL THE TIME. To the point that it becomes annoying. Do it!
If your studio is becoming too expensive, get rid of it. Sorry, kill your darlings. Move some shit around in Steven Lim’s tesla garage, put up some green screens, this is where you work now until you can afford a studio in LA again, you dipshits. Editors can work from home, sound designers can work from home, writers and researchers can work from home, meetings can happen in someone’s kitchen or living room.
And finally: be transparent. Be honest to your audience and communicate. “We’re sorry to put Ghost Files on hiatus, however we can no longer justify the cost of traveling to locations.” The majority of your audience will understand and show patience. The part of your audience that matters will wait and enjoy your other wacky shit in the meantime. Hell, they might spontaneously start their own kickstarter because those who can, will want to support you financially, if you’re just hONEST WITH THEM.
As a business, you constantly have to choose between your financial stability and that of your employees, your vision and the future of your company and what you Want to do with it, and your integrity, the trust between you and your audience. (Especially that last one, businesses can’t pretend they don’t have a relationship with their audience, that’s not how business works, guys.)
When you’re in financial straits, one of those has to go. Watcher chose the latter, they should’ve picked the middle. Their grand television quality ideas can fucking wait, if money is a problem.
Look, I’m an artist too. I had a vision too. But it was either my creative vision or being able to afford food and rent. Creativity can wait, creativity will always be there once I can support it. Living comes ALWAYS first. Asking my audience to fund my huge artistic dreams though, with only the promise of something cool, NEVER even crossed my fucking mind. That’s what donations are for, that’s what the patreon is for.
They apologised. And good. But this was a dumb decision from the goddamn start. There were like 500 steps in between and they skipped all of it. And for what? For money? For grand ideas? For greed or for hubris? How many of their original subscribers are actually gonna come back? How much money did they lose with this stunt? If they really are in financial trouble, this MASSIVE risk -which is what it has always been- might just be their downfall. And it’d be 100% their own fucking fault.
#Watcher#Ok that’s ACTUALLY the last time i talk about this i need to move on#I dunno why this played in my mind so much#No i do know: it was boredom#But even as an outsider to whole streaming service just Felt Gross#And as someone who’s worked in the entertainment industry… i just.. SAW all the red flags#And it’s BAFFLING none of the so-called professionals at watcher entertainment stopped this#Or maybe that’s the hubris of the ceo’s talking who tf knows at this point#Anyway all of this was playing in my mind and i had to type it out to get my brain to hopefully shut up#Imma pirate some fucking tv shows now#If paying for it isn’t owning it then pirating isn’t stealing#Long post#like LONG-ASS FUCKIN POST
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