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starsofang · 22 hours

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Hi there. I wanted to make a request for something a bit personal. All this week, my family has been criticizing my weight (which I have struggled with my whole life) and told me point-blank that no one would ever love me because of it. That being said, I would like to request a writing with Soap. Let's say the reader has been avoiding sex with him for a while. They'll kiss and stuff, but as soon as he starts pulling her shirt up, she pulls it back down and makes some sort of excuse. This goes on for a while until Soap confronts her about it. She basically then goes off, pointing out all her bodily flaws and how fat and hideous she thinks she is and asks him how he could ever think she was sexy. And all he says is, “How can I NOT?” And he makes love to her and every time she makes a complaint about her body or calls herself ugly, she shushes her, ultimately taking her in front of a mirror and making her look at herself and how sexy she looks taking him. And when they're done, Soap should talk about how she's not fat, she's cute and squishy.

i just want you to know that you’re not defined by your weight, and you will absolutely find somebody who will love you no matter your appearance <3 i’m a big girl dating a fit man and he treats me wonderfully, despite many people bullying me for my weight and thinking he’s silly for dating a big girl. you will 100% find somebody like that who will love you for you, and your family is wrong about that <3 i’m sending you all my love anon!!!

i hope this is to your liking!!

tw: NSFW, MDNI, brief angst with fluffy smut :3

Johnny was the love of your life. There wasn’t a doubt about it in your mind that he was the one you’d spend the rest of your days with, growing old together, showered in each other’s unconditional love.

Lately, though, you were wondering if you were the love of his.

The reflection in the mirror every time you snuck a glance whispered nasty things to you. Hurtful and cruel, dousing you in doubtful insecurity, all geared towards the way you looked. It pointed out all of your soft rolls, the pudge of your stomach, the cellulite on your thighs.

Every time you came face to face with your reflection, it was a constant thought that plagued your mind of why Johnny wanted to be with somebody like you. Why he chose you.

Blinded by your own criticism, it began to take a toll on your relationship.

It started off small, like gently pushing him away with a forced laugh every time he’d come up behind you and rest his hands on your hips, kneading the flesh. Or, when he’d lay in bed at night with you, arm slung over your stomach, seeking out your touch in order to fall asleep, you’d roll to face away from him, fearful of Johnny feeling the softness of your body.

It was a bigger issue when sex became less frequent — not that Johnny minded if you weren’t in the mood. He respected you. But Johnny knew you far more than you thought he did, and he could see the tell-tale signs of you distancing yourself.

He noticed the way you shied away from him, brushing his hands off like you were scorched from his touch. Hiding away in oversized clothing, concealing any sliver of your body.

At first, Johnny didn’t say anything. He didn’t know how to approach it, and he didn’t want to assume anything was wrong. Maybe you were having an off time!

It wasn’t until tonight, where he had you gracefully laid out in your bed, that he knew something was truly wrong.

The rough pads of his fingers slowly slid down to the hem of your shirt while his lips remained occupied against yours, carefully slipping the fabric up across your stomach. Almost instantly, your body tensed up, your own hands grasping hold of the end of your shirt to roughly tug it down, successfully covering yourself back up.

Johnny paused, pulling away from your kiss to peer down at you with a worried furrow in his brow.

“Bonnie,” he frowned. “What’s all this about?”

You busied your lip between your teeth, turning your head away in order to avoid seeing the ache in his eyes. You didn’t want to tell him, didn’t want him to confirm your insecurities by telling you he saw what you saw in the mirror.

“Talk t’me,” he encouraged, gently guiding your head to look at him, thumb stroking along your cheek.

“I just—“ You sucked in a breath, before everything came spilling out at once. “I don’t want you to see me. I know I’m chubby, I know I’m not small. I don’t understand what you see in me.”

“Bonnie—“

“I don’t see why you love me when I look like this,” you finished, cutting him off. By the time you finished rambling, you had to catch your breath. A frown settled on your lips, and the sight of it caused Johnny to ache.

“How could I not?” Johnny breathed, voice so tender yet serious. He stared down at you, eyes flickering over your face, wanting so badly to smooth away the downward pull on your lips and furrow in your own eyebrows.

You said nothing, darting your eyes away to look at the ceiling instead of him.

“I love everythin’ about ye,” he continued, leaning down to press a subtle kiss to your cheek, moving down to your jaw, then your neck. “And I certainly love yer body. Do I have t’show ye myself?”

You finally glanced back to meet his gaze. He had a smile on his lips and a gleam in his eyes, one only reserved for you.

“C’mon,” he urged, pulling himself off of you and guiding you to sit up.

Once the two of you were standing, he quietly asked for permission to undress you. He noticed your hesitance so he waited patiently for you to answer, but once you told him yes, he happily obliged.

Johnny worked slowly to peel off every layer of your clothing until they were a heap on the floor at your feet. He took in the sight of you bare, smiling bashfully at the vision, burning it into memory.

He made quick work to undress himself to match your nudity, before sitting on the edge of the bed, tugging you to sit on his lap with your back pressed to his chest. His skin was warm against yours, but his hands were like a burning fire when he slipped them down your sides and to your thighs.

“I want ye t’look in the mirror, bonnie,” he said, nodding his head to the floor length mirror that sat perched up against the wall. When you looked into it, you had a perfect view of yourself in his lap. “How could I not love that?”

You squirmed awkwardly, unable to see what he was seeing. That little voice in the back of your mind still had control, and Johnny could tell. He was determined to rid yourself of it once and for all.

Despite wanting to resist, you continued looking in the mirror, taking in the sight of you on his lap, your thighs resting snugly over his own. Your eyes followed the way his hand slid from your thigh, going up and up until it reached between, lightly dragging through your cunt. His fingers shined almost instantly from your slick, and he took pleasure in coating himself in it further.

A shaky breath left your lips, warmth of arousal pooling in your abdomen. You’d never been able to see him touch you before, but now you have a full view of it. His fingers began circling your clit, while his free arm wrapped around your stomach, keeping you pressed up against him.

“Beautiful,” he murmured next to your ear, his chin resting on your shoulder as he watched with you.

Johnny began indulging himself in the wetness of your cunt, unable to look away from the sight of his fingers sliding between your clit and your hole. He always thought you were stunning, but seeing you like this was heavenly.

Two fingers slipped into you, and your mouth parted, throat catching on to a surprised gasp. He grinned at you in the reflection, taking in the way you wiggled at the intrusion.

“Look at ye,” he hummed, fucking into you at a gentle pace with his fingers. “Bloody gorgeous.”

Your gasps turned into whines, eyes glossing over with a clouded need. You watched hazily as his fingers slipped in and out of you, and for a brief moment, you agreed with him. The sight of you falling apart from his fingers was new, almost thrilling.

As much as Johnny wanted to see you come from just his hand, he needed you to see yourself in the way he saw you. Slipping his fingers out earned a whine of protest from you, but he quickly shushed you by lifting you off of his lap so he could line his hardened cock up to your sopping hole, sinking you down on it.

“Fuckin’ look at ye, bonnie,” he sighed, fingers digging into the fat of your hips, indenting into your softness. He guided you up, slowly dragging his cock along your gummy walls, before pulling you back down, your ass flush against his lap. “Ye look fuckin’ sexy like this. My pretty girl.”

Seeing the way your cunt greedily clenched around his cock, glistening prettily in the reflection of the mirror, you felt surprisingly attractive. The voice in your head was quieting down, instead being replaced with Johnny’s loving praises as he took you.

Your stomach and thighs jiggled with every bounce he made from his hands on your hips, but the look in his eyes was undoubtedly burning with intense desire, clouded over with admiration. You could see how enthralled he was from the sight of you and how much it turned him on.

“This is all mine,” he groaned, squeezing your hips before bringing one hand around to grab hold of your stomach. He did it in such a loving way that you no longer felt insecure, you no longer had the urge to push him away so you could hide your body from him.

Johnny was proving just how beautiful he thought you were while simultaneously making you see it for yourself. He wanted you to feel good about yourself, and it was working.

When he saw the doubtful look in your eyes dissipate into a more confident one, he picked up the pace, eager to bounce you on his cock and make a mess of you. He was determined to make you feel so good that you wouldn’t even remember why you were insecure in the first place.

“So fuckin’ good t’me, don’t even know how I got ye,” he grunted. The words showered you with warmth, filling you up and teetering you near the edge. “I’m a lucky bastard.”

You could feel the build up grow more intense, your moans uncontrollably slipping out. He continued to praise you, engulf you in his compliments, dripping with nothing but love and want.

It sent you over that edge, clenching around him and your breath getting caught in your throat. Just from that sight alone, reflecting back at Johnny from the mirror, he didn’t fall too far behind you, filling you with proof of his undying love and claiming you as his.

From the look of fucked out bliss on your face, he was sure he got the message through.

Cleaning you up and lying you on top him, he basked in the post clarity, hands massaging along your hips.

“I wish ye would’ve told me sooner, bonnie,” he murmured softly, lips pressed against the top of your head that rested on his bare chest. “There’s nothin’ wrong with yer body. I like it this way. Can squish it whenever I want.”

You laughed against him, propping your chin up so you could look at him. His eyes were soft combined with the goofy smile on his face. He looked like a man head over heels, and it was with you.

“If ye need a reminder again, I’ll be glad t’fuck you in front of the mirror as many times as ye need. Or ye can sit on my face so I can worship ye.”

“I might suffocate you if I do that,” you snorted in amusement.

“That’s the point, bonnie. Do I have t’show ye again that I don’t care? Suffocate me.”

You rolled your eyes, pulling a bright laugh from him. He tugged you closer to him, pressing a soft kiss to your head. He’d happily show you as many times as you needed, no matter how many hours it took. He’d die a happy man if it meant getting to see and feel your softness everyday.

#angie's requests #call of duty #cod #cod x reader #johnny soap mactavish #soap x reader #soap cod #johnny mactavish #john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #cod requests

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leggerefiore · 1 day

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How about some wedding/honeymoon headcannons for Cyrus, Larry, and whoever else you want? 💚

SO. I did Submas stuff for weddings already. So they're out, but you can read it here.

I tossed in some assorted person headcanons too... I hope that's alright lol

cw: sort of long?, fluff, weddings, proposals,

characters: Cyrus, Larry, Nanu, Grimsley

🌌Cyrus🛰

☄️ Marriage is admittedly something that he tries to avoid. Inherently, he sees nothing wrong with it. More so, he views it logically as a legal union between two people to make asset inheritance and division easier. The issue comes up due to his past with it. His parents had tried to force him into multiple arranged marriages. For people of his social standing, it was normal. Expected, even, but the thought of being legally tied to someone his parents had decided for him left him sleepless for many nights. Yet… when it came to you, his current partner, the idea was growing to bother him less and less. After his plans… went awry, he found himself even more comfortable with the idea. His plan had always been to propose the idea anyway. Which is what he did. Quite bluntly, he held his hand out to you and spoke, “Beloved, marry me and hold this hand.” It was not posed as a question – No, it was simply a statement. You had no intention of saying no, anyway.

☄️ A wedding was not at all on his mind. He saw no use in a decorative ceremony for what could just as easily be done within legal parameters in a more quiet and easy manner. You will just be added to his family registry. Simple as that. Nothing flashy or traditional – Legality only. Granted, he would allow a smaller party if that was what you wanted. It is more tame than a wedding and is composed of a few select friends and family members. Cyrus's side is lacking, to say the least, but his commanders show up, as does his grandfather, unexpectedly. The event is likely held somewhere at the Galactic building on a day off and makes the event almost feel like a weird office party. It is all a bit odd, but Cyrus was not exactly known for his normal proclivities. It is overall a good time, and you even awkwardly get to feed him cake while he tries to remain collected.

☄️ Cyrus struggles to comprehend why he should take a while off from work to enjoy his marriage. To him, it is illogical. Being married to you does not change your situation. You have lived with him for a while leading up to everything, so there is no adjustment period. Still, you clearly wanted it, so he would relent and take off work. It was to say no as well when Mars seemed to glare at him until he did. Her investment in his love life bewildered him. Even Jupiter seemed to get in on it. He almost felt forced out of the office and onto a vacation with you. His choice in location was originally going to be somewhere else in Sinnoh, but it changed when Mars and Jupiter suggested something more grand. Jubilife was not grand – It was a day trip.

☄️ Instead, you both went to Johto. Something about the traditional charm drew him in. It seemed like a quieter and more peaceful place as opposed to other options. He opts to stay in Ecruteak to allow you both to fully absorb the area's unique scenery. You both spend a lot of time in the inn that he somehow booked despite it apparently usually requiring months prior reservation. The old building's charm intrigued him. Yet, you both visited many of the different offerings of Johto. Goldenrod caught his attention quite thoroughly, but he seemed to enjoy the peace that both Ecruteak and Violet held. You both opted against Cianwood and Olivine for a few reasons.

☄️ The most memorable part was… climbing Mt. Silver. Cyrus's previous training paid off, and it was a fun bonding activity. It also made soaking in a hot bath at the inn all the better. A few day trips over to Kanto made the trip all the better, too. Ultimately, Cyrus felt glad he took the experience and deeply enjoyed the precious moments spent with you. Though, it was less of a honeymoon and more of a general vacation.

💼Larry🏢

🍙 Marriage crossed Larry's mind a few times over the years. It was something that he wanted aspired for at one point, but that had gone away as his work quickly became overwhelming and made meeting people outside of it difficult. His age was also a concern. Being middle-aged did not make marriage any easier to achieve. Yet, here he was, readying himself to propose exactly that. The stress swirled in his mind as his hands tied his tie from muscle memory alone. Rika had suggested something simple. A nice date out and then pulling out a ring in a quiet, isolated location.

🍙 He naturally asked you out to one of the nicer restaurants in Medali and planned to walk with you into a quieter part of the city to ask you. Dinner had gone well. Sharing a meal truly was one of the best ways to bond with another person… His confidence felt oddly higher as he brought you to the amphitheatre. The location was almost entirely deserted when he turned to you and fumbled down to one knee. The ring was brought out with all the stiffness expected of carrying a stack of papers. He made uncomfortable eye contact and cleared his throat, “… Marry me?” Despite everything, you were more than eager to take the ring and agree to his simple request.

🍙 He does not really care for anything wedding related. Truthfully, he was panicking thinking about how he could schedule it in to his itinerary. He expected Geeta to hear that he was engaged and dump extra work on him instantly in reply. Instead, she gave one of her polite smiles and a quiet applause for him. He was given a few days off, stating that it was about time for him to settle down. He still is not sure that he wants the stress of a ceremony. Though, he does relent if his partner asks specifically for one. He would only ask that it be a smaller one. For him, the part and parcel that matters most is simply signing the paperwork and having it notarised under the letter of the law. He would also be fine with a reception party afterwards. His fellow league members would likely pop in and happily chat about how they cannot believe the ageing man finally did it. He is just eating the food provided in the background. His favourite memory is you feeding him a slice of the wedding cake, at least.

🍙 Larry almost wants to beg to just take your honeymoon at home. He is exhausted, and having so much time off almost makes him want to sleep for the entirety of it. After all, it was not like your situation was heavily changed from anything. Legally, you were married, but he would not deny that he had basically begun to treat you like his spouse even before he thought about proposing. Though, for whatever reason, Poppy seemed to gush to Rika about how lucky it was for Larry, and you get to go on a romantic trip together. Rika then turned around and asked where he was going. The green-haired woman was shocked with his reply and essentially insisted on doing something – Even just getting out of Medali! He did relent, especially if you had previously asked about taking a trip for it.

🍙 Somehow, Alola becomes the settled location. Larry felt nervous about putting everything together but became intrigued when finally both landed in the tropical paradise. Hau'oli city was definitely a tourist area filled with the hustle and bustle of people. Yet, he felt the slow pace of the region began to sink into him as you both took a boat ride across to Akala island. The Tide Song Hotel was very accommodating and pleasant. He could almost sleep an entire day away in the bed, yet you absolutely made it clear that you desired his attention. The two of you ventured around to see the natural beauty provided by the islands and even found Larry a friend in a Drampa by accident. He felt as if Hassel was standing before him in pokemon form. There are even a few romantic moments spent together watching the ocean together from your hotel room's balcony or sitting together on the beach. Larry, however, would admit the food was the most memorable thing for him. He recalled some older look at him in shock as he ordered seconds at the Sushi High Roller. Ultimately, the honeymoon ends up more as a nice getaway than anything overly romantic, but it does have its moments.

🐈‍⬛️Nanu❤️‍🩹

🌑 Marriage… He does not think it ever really crossed his mind. It was not like he did not want it, but more so that his path in life did not exactly align with it. Marriage was far from his mind while he was an International Police officer, and then by the time he found himself back in Alola, he had the role of Kahuna forced on him. Love was not something he actively sought out, yet it found him. Marriage had not been something he considered until his heart had been captured by you. It felt strange to be considering a proposal at his age.

🌑 A ring was easy enough to get, but how did he do this? Hala said to just ask while Olivia suggested something grand. He felt exhausted while thinking about it. Yet, he did not want you to feel like he did not care. He found himself inviting you out to Route 14 just as the sun was beginning to set. His hand grasped the ring box in his pocket as he gazed at the water. Eventually, he found himself holding the ring box out to you while scratching the back of his head. “You can say no,” Nanu felt almost like you would. He worried that you were going to break a bone with how tightly you held him.

🌑 He dreaded the idea of a wedding ceremony. Alolan ones were often overly romanticised, but the idea stressed him out. The Tapu might even decides to make an appearance and make everything all the more exhausting. It almost felt like an obligation as a Kahuna, and you might even have your heart set on it. If you do, he will warn you clearly that the ceremony will have some odd moments. Despite that, if you still insist, he will obligate. It almost feels a bit like a festival with how all the other Kahunas and a few captains show up. Acerola was beyond excited to fill in as a flower girl. The officiant got scared by Tapu Bulu's loud cry when he allowed you to come together for an interesting ending. Nanu pressed his forehead to yours – not for a kiss – but for a shared breath. Apparently, it was a tradition. The Tapu seemed proud to see its choice of a Kahuna finally settling down. Nanu would admit that he enjoyed it despite the hassle in the end. The end of the wedding was followed by a feast, in which everyone seemed more than ready to congratulate the old man on his accomplishment. Hala gave a full laugh after saying his piece. The day was truly something joyous on Ula'Ula

🌑 Nanu did not understand the need for a honeymoon… First, he would have to get the Tapu's permission, which might get rejected, and then he would have to leave someone else in charge. He just wanted to accept the change in the comfort of your shared home. Besides, Alola was already considered the location for honeymooners. Most people paid insane amounts of money to spend time here. You lived here with him… Is that not enough? Olivia actually agreed with that one unexpectedly, too, but Acerola seemed to demand that you two take an actual trip. He struggled to even think of anywhere to go. Sure, his job used to take him all over, but now all he wanted was to stay and relax. Olivia suggests Unova. Tapu Bulu accepted his request. He could not escape this fate.

🌑 Unova ended up being the destination. Nanu was not unfamiliar with the region, but he would not say that he was overly familiar either. The region was busy, yet full of entertainment. Nimbasa was where you both found your honeymoon anchored. The city was vibrant and exciting. Nanu felt like he was in an entirely different world than the one that he had grown accustomed to in Alola. Yet, you both quickly took to exploring the sights. The amusement park was a thrilling and allowed for a romantic moment between you both on the Ferris wheel. The musicals showed a strange form of entertainment that had not quite made its way to Alola... You both even tried out the Battle Subway but found yourselves defeated the two odd fellows that ran it. There were even trips to Castelia, Virbank, Black City and anywhere else that a friend of Nanu's seemed to recommend. The trip became a nice change up. Undella and Humilau almost had you both feeing as if you were back home. Though, Nanu definitely preferred the comfort of your hotel to anything else. Relaxing in with you was nicer than any offerings of this region. Ultimately, Nanu is glad he took the trip and you both had a fun experience together.

♠️Grimsley❤️

♤ Marriage… Grimsley loathed the idea a bit. Perhaps it was the nature of his collapsing family that he grew up in that turned him away, or how badly it meshed with his lifestyle. He was not afraid to say that he slept around with little interest in proper relationships. Marriage seemed like a thing that would never intercept his path. Besides, that gamble of being in the fifty-seven percent of people that did not divorce… He felt his luck might run out there. Well, he had felt that way. Grimsley had been quite certain of that for a long while. But, he went broke. His thrill seeking behaviour had finally done something that he could not recover from easily. Then, you showed up. For once in his entire life, marriage had entered his mind as a desired thing. The scariest gamble of his life. Grimsley truly felt strange.

♡ Shauntal had come to him as he sat in deep thought within his Elite Four chamber. She had started laughing at how plain it was. Stop thinking of it as gambling… The advice led him to finding himself on one knee across from you in an isolated area of a casino. A brilliant ring was held out to you. “… Will you marry a guy like me?” he asked, feeling the hesitance eat at him. Your reply was to eagerly put on the ring and embrace him. A smug feeling filled the gaps left by his uncertainty.

◇ A wedding ceremony was fine to him, or you both could just go through the legal channels. Though, a ceremony will likely be held in a far too expensive venue within Black City. The other Elite Four members attend alongside Alder. A strange older man also shows up and seems bewildered to see Grimsley as a groom. The event has a classy, high air feeling to it somehow, yet there is some strange undertone. The ceremony is admittedly quick – The dark-type specialist was not one for lingering on traditions. The kiss between you both left you breathless. His piercing eyes gazed at you, much like his Liepard when she was ready to pounce. The reception consisted of multiple people amazed that he actually got married, and many congratulations. The older man scratched the back of his head and tried to figure out what had changed in Grimsley. You could not help but feel flustered when he said one word. Your name. The day quickly became one of his favourites. Marriage did not seem so awful now.

♧ Taking time off for a honeymoon felt next to impossible, and he struggled to think of where to go. Being married honestly had changed little in your lives but legal things, yet he felt strange when he thought about you being his spouse. The racing feeling in his chest could only be compared when he was a card away from twenty-one in blackjack. A getaway… But to where? Unova was already quite a tourist spot. He considered Alola but felt it too relaxed for his tastes. Caitlin had suggested Sinnoh, but he wondered what was there of intrigue. Shauntal recommended Kalos, and he felt more inclined. Marshal said that he should just keep focusing on his training. Grimsley opted for Kalos. It was a romantic region, after all.

♤ Lumiose was an exciting city that Grimsley could only think to compare to Castelia... Though, the metro in Kalos left much to be desired when compared to Unova's system. The city did have a romantic allure, and the gambler certainly enjoyed all the time spent with you inside the hotel room. The room was big enough to count as an apartment in some areas of Castelia. Yet, you both wandered the streets of the city, enjoying the many things offered. Food was delicious, and he certainly enjoyed the battle system in place. You could only watch as he got his thrills filled in there. The clothing was beautiful and much to his style. Though, you found yourself being gifted a nice outfit. At some point, you both had ventured out of the city and into Parfum Palace. Grimsley felt engaged by the beauty. Yet, even as he enjoyed everything with you, part of him craved the certain seediness found within areas of Unova. Ultimately, the trip really is a honeymoon with most of the time spent in your hotel room with Grimsely, but there are some vacation moments mixed in.

#pokemon x reader #cyrus x reader #larry x reader #nanu x reader #grimsley x reader #pokemon/reader #pokemon larry x reader #pokemon cyrus x reader #pokemon nanu x reader #pokemon grimsley x reader #cyrus/reader #nanu/reader #larry/reader #grimsley/reader

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shrimp-buffet · 2 days

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LARRY & LAWRIE HEADCANONS #3

(Headcanons after the cut, I ramble for a bit)

*head pops out of grave* I'M ALIVEEE

Yeah I know I say this in practically every post but I finally got something again! school and other stuff kicked my ass and honestly i wasn't sure how interested really was in making these until I missed them! So while I can't guarantee any consistent posting knowing me, I can at least say that I do plan to keep doing these and I'm hoping to branch out into other fandoms so that me making these doesn't fully depend on me having a Brawl Stars hyperfixation.

Anyways as a sort of apology for the lack of content, I bring you the follow up I know many have been waiting for: LARRY AND LAWRIE PART 3 BABY!

Hope you enjoy!

Fair warning: this one may be a small bit angsty in some spots. Nothing that would need an actual warning but didn't want to jumpscare y'all with surprise sadness.

Larry based, Lawrie based, both

•Larry's most rebellious action would be putting a soda can in the non-recycling bin... Then feeling extremely guilty and fishing it back out to put it in the correct bin when no one is looking.

•Lawrie has an apocalypse bunker hidden somewhere in the park. It's only for them, Larry, and RT.

•Lawrie likes Bob Ross! They don't like to paint all that much though. Larry does like painting but he's really bad at it.

•They've never been outside the park before. Lawrie is pretty content with that fact and doesn't want to leave, but Larry wants to see what's out there and occasionally asks parkgoers about it.

•Larry gets along well with animals (add this and the last one and Larry is a fricking Disney princess- /j)

•Lawrie is the exact opposite, all animals hate them and they hate all animals in return.

•As somewhat implied already, Lawrie is kind of leaning towards a "hate all biological life" mindset. They don't actually full-on hate lifeforms entirely, but people don't really like them so they don't like people, that kind of deal. This leads Lawrie to sometimes say stuff teetering on the "kill all humans" line but Larry calls it out and Lawrie would always agree they're going a bit too far.

•Larry as usual is the opposite. He finds life and people to be so interesting and envies their experiences. They even somewhat avoid hanging out with other robots because it reminds him that he's also just a robot, though he doesn't even realize this thought process. He would never admit it, but he kind of wishes he was human. Lawrie can sense this so it causes some arguments between the two.

•On a more light-hearted note, Larry has a bit of a crush on Melodie! She's very pretty, sings beautifully, and does whatever she wants and says anything on her mind, all of which Larry loves and admires.

•Out of all the people in the park, Lawrie gets along with Draco and Hank the best. Draco is more of a frien-emy that can get on their nerves a lot but they have a lot of similar interests like music taste. And Hank is a semi-friendly rival.

•Larry, Lawrie, and R-T were all made on the same day. When it comes to the birthday though they celebrate it as R-T's day cause they just love their "baby" sibling. (Plus in Lawrie's case they just don't like the idea of having their own birthday)

•Larry is scared of Cordelius. He just gives them the creeps and somehow always manages to accidentally sneak up on Larry. (Same goes for Lily)

•Larry has a notebook they carry around to do made up math problems in when they're bored.

•Lawrie usually never wishes they could eat food, but he does wish he could try chocolate.

•They tend to play "road trip" games when they're bored on a patrol together. Things like Eye Spy, 20 Questions, Alphabet Game, etc. They both really enjoy it!

•They also listen to true crime podcast together.

And that's all I got for now! Thank you for reading this far!! As always if you'd like more let me know!!!

#brawl stars #brawl stars headcanons #headcannons #brawl stars larry #brawl stars lawrie #larry and lawrie

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sweet-beezus · 10 months

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I was excited to start working on this prompt for @khoc-week as soon as the prompts dropped, specifically due to an AU RP group called Army of the Roses (started by @/pig-warship, sorry boo didn't want to ping you to death-) I've been involved in since 2019!!

To all my homies that are/were involved I love y'all this fun ditty is dedicated to you!! :)

If you've seen a bunch of my art in the Kingdom Hearts OC tags as of late, about 99% of it tends to be tagged with the name of the group, as to me it is like a brain eating amoeba that's Iliana (And Penna and Mando-) shaped (affectionate).

But before I delve too deep, let's get into the prompt!

Day 4 - Alternative Universes

I'm not gonna go too far into the lore of the AU because we'd be here all day, but I'll give a sprinkling for context!

The AU takes place hundreds of years after the events of Kingdom Hearts in a time where names like Sora and Xehanort have mostly been forgotten, but the events are still at least remembered to some degree. Places best known as hubs have also long since been abandoned and forgotten, turned to rubble under the weight of centuries of dwindling population. Traverse Town, even, is no longer the temporary sanctuary it once was.

Sora's Power of Waking kinda screwed up some fabric of reality stuff to the point where it opened a rift between universes, so there's a new (not very new by this point, anyway, unless you're a native to universe Alpha with no interaction beyond your world) universe with all sorts of places to explore!!

It's in this new universe where most of Iliana's character development is taking place, so buckle in for that.

Iliana's journey into the unknown follows the exact same story beats as her canon-compliant timeline, however she doesn't make ties with any canon characters this go around (because they're all long dead), so she mostly has to face the current state of affairs alone... ish.

Traverse Town is pretty much a ghost town at this point, with her uncle Russell being one of the very few remaining there, so her stay this time around feels a bit isolated. She starts off being a bit more closed off than she already was, which definitely will not have wonderful development later, no siree!

Her spontaneous journey to find her home is the same, but her chase through space ends a bit differently. Igni's Heartless (we didn't know it was her Heartless yet, well "we" being everyone but me) murks her in Traverse Town this time, her uncle manages to fight the beast off by himself, unfortunately paying witness to his niece's demise at the same time (sorry king), and instead of becoming Reixen she actually has her own Nobody named Anilxia, which I will explain why in due time.

[Reusing older doodles because I ran out of steam-]

Anilxia was a grimy, very hostile shadow of her former self, fevered by rage, spite, and insomnia. She was almost a danger to Russell, yet he still treated her with tolerant kindness and respect. Like a rehomed, antisocial feral cat.

Frankly, to him this was much better than having her dead and gone like the rest of his family seemed to be, she was their last hope essentially. He had no idea what to do without her, really. So he started working behind the scenes to figure out how to get her back, while making sure to keep her close and in check. Did he go so far as to ground her from going anywhere without him? Absolutely. You can't trust a moody Nobody-

She stayed for (less than?) a year with Russell in this form, in the meantime piecing things together she had noticed were super suspicious about the few memories she was regaining. It all festered into tons of internal darkness that was feeding her own Heartless, which she eventually found skulking around town wherever she went.

Knowing she might be met with some end soon, and in a desperate attempt to preserve what she found out before it could be taken from her again, she wrote her notes down in a... weirdly magical journal, then persued her Heartless through a rift that led them both to the other universe where she recompleted herself... and immediately got hit by a city bus- Jk jk... unless?

She was taken in briefly by a kind stranger who~ I think I wrote to be this universe's reborn Alto! In an AU-canon-compliant diary, anyway- Then she, not knowing how to get back home from here, and with nothing but the clothes on her back and a few weird misc. items, decided to stay in this new city until she could find her own answers to things that were plaguing her. Memories she couldn't, well, remember and all that.

Her only company for a month was Iris and Irene, who in this timeline were... suspiciously much more hostile, and absent at times. She assumed the memory wipe was affecting them as well, so she thought her best bet was to pick up the pace on her personal research both into her world and her memories. She had to juggle some awful jobs at the same time, so suffice to say she was having an awful time.

An answer came to her in the form of a flyer for a mercenary group named, you guessed it, the Army of the Roses, so she packed up her awful little apartment, sold her lease for pretty cheap, and moved to their home base! With some surprising encouragement from Iris and Irene as well, hmm...

In the jump between universes, and probably even before that with her death, she lost her ability to use her Keyblade. That didn't stop it from reforming as a clunky scythe, however, so no need to worry about that... Wait, it's not her Keyblade why is this thing orange and feathery- She picked up using it pretty well, so what harm does a little cosmetic aesthetic change do?

She seemed to fit in perfectly with all the wackos (affectionate) that live there, however...

She started off as a total shut-in, stayed in her room most of the time, barely spoke to the team unless she almost got caught speaking to Iris and Irene or had to actively contribute to missions, lurked in the kitchen at night to avoid interacting... But eventually after a few months of being there she came out of her shell enough to disclose her ongoing problem with her missing home world to one of the leaders.

Of course, that was a backburner issue. They were dealing with bigger things at the time, so one measly personal problem could wait, right?

At one point, that same leader took her and (her new lil bro) another teammate to search for clues, turning up with at least something. She was just having trouble putting it together, like someone didn't want her to figure it all out... Days of almost getting there but coming up short with her memory out of wack did a number on her confidence, so to her dismay she still needed extra help.

With the, some reluctant some voluntary, assitance of the leaders, they managed to, after some harsh poking, confront the now revealed main concern, Igni, and found the leads they needed to bring it back from the brink of disappearance. (The leads were boobytrapped, obvi, if they weren't then it'd be too easy-) From here on, though, Iris and Irene fall suspiciously silent.

Now, I had the absolute pleasure to be at the forefront of Iliana's Character Chapter, a special event where she could (almost) wrap up her character arc and I could make everyone cry! :)

I mentioned it a bit in my KHOC Week posts about Igni in 2021, as it was in progress at the time when I was making them! I thought it would add some nice flavor to her posts and add context for my reasons to talk about her, but it was all very vague so I wouldn't spoil much about the CC itself, so it may have been a... rough read-

We've long since moved on from it as a whole, but it was really fun to host and is forever one of my favorite things I've ever gotten to contribute!!

So, contrary to the canon-compliant timeline where I'm quite a ways away from ever reaching the grand end of her personal story, here we finally got to experience it in motion, but... good golly gee my pals really bent it beyond repair, thank goodness I am pretty decent at improv-

To summarize: They sure did find the Hills of Progress! Y'know the journal I mentioned earlier? Yeah, it was sealed in that.

Along the way they met some interesting faces, relived some horrendous relationships, immediately adopted a very good frog obsessed boy, and backhanded a twink who deserved it (my favorite part tbh). Things happened early and in the strangest ways possible, someone almost died (3 different people at 3 different times, it was a mess) and one nose was broken (Iliana got punched super hard at supersonic speeds so Igni would get out of the driver's seat, my 2nd fav part tbh).

But the important turning point (aside from a hug and a later interaction before Igni got Galeem'd 2: Electric Boogaloo) I wanted to talk about was when they crossed the threshold into Iliana's heart. They were there specifically to confront Igni and hopefully remove her permanently, but she was making it virtually impossible to find her. She's annoying like that.

They turned to their next best bet: Iliana's "heart parasites," Iris and Irene. They hoped the two would be more than helpful in finding Igni, but to their dismay... they were not. In fact, they refused and stalled for time, arguing with the leaders and outing themselves for what they really were in what was probably the most heart wrenching betrayal the whole CC...

♡♡♡

"They never existed."

"We're just figments of an active imagination here only to mentor where one couldn't succeed on her own."

"Igni made us simply to keep an eye on her, making us as real as possible only kept up the illusion she wasn't alone."

"If our purpose was to protect her, perhaps we would have done more to be kind, perhaps even try to defend her."

"But that was never our purpose, so it never happened."

♡♡♡

In turn both of them raised their weapons to [leader], defective copies of a Keyblade long forgotten.

[Quotes taken directly from the event! I went hard on that ngl-]

♡♡♡

They were never real to begin with, just illusions made up by Igni to keep tabs on and steer Iliana in the right direction. Visages she stole from the lifetimes she lived, people that did exist but don't anymore. Mere façades of what she thought a lonely child needed like the countless others she observed before, instead turned to a reminder that she can and will be disposed of eventually, to keep her in line.

Her whole life was revealed to be a lie right then and there, and that crack in her heart is gonna be very hard to repair. Time may not be able to heal all wounds on this one. Her trust? Shattered.

It also charted her course way differently, and with them being fake she was 100% herself when her Nobody stepped into the limited limelight. She was, in fact, truly alone the whole time. Well... Aside from Igni, but she doesn't count.

You can imagine Igni's defeat was bittersweet that day, she ticked off one too many people so it was time to get rid of her for good. She became Igni goo and was Baja/Biden/Flavor blasted to kingdom come, it was GREAT!!! Finally, a deserved win, since they had gone through so much in a span of two days, it was a relief!

Iliana's memories of Iris and Irene in this timeline are forever soiled, and because of it her already existing trust issues are much worse, but (to her dismay) her new found family is there to help work her through it!

The other downside is that she's got some guilt to work through, as well as her personal family problems and her now worsened Igni Disease™ (it has a name, I just think calling it that is funnier-).

And of course her being her you can try to pry these issues out of her and into the open, it may just take a crowbar and a lot of elbow grease. Or a bribe... or perhaps just a moment of vulnerability, of which she has few... Or her brother disclosing her personal life for the nth time. Either way, I wish you luck-

On the bright side of this whole mess, she has her Keyblade back in a more ethical way thanks to her new dad/big bro figure so HA, suck on that Igni-

Ahem.

Anyway-

The Keyblade part is not really a win in her eyes, but perhaps she'll warm up more to the idea when her self esteem repairs itself.

Not gonna lie, that self doubt of hers is strong enough to be a source of weird funky happenings...

But that's a thought for later!

What is a win is that she has her lil' bro back!!! And while she doesn't make it obvious, she has never been happier about an outcome in her entire life, that entire nightmare was WORTH IT-

Now she gets to teach him the magic of self defense, and the two can journey together just like she had promised him forever ago.

And with that~!

This was a long one! If you made it this far, you have earned my gratitude and a dash more of my respect!

I have a lot of passion and love stored in this AU and the people I collaborate with, especially the admins, so it only felt right to go on about it to great length! It's very fun to participate in, so you can see why my brainworms are specifically tailored to this.

Again, thank you to my buds in the server for the amazing opportunity to make this nightmare happen, and allowing me to have something to backread when I want to relive probably one of my favorite things I've gotten to host!! We all hate Igni in this house, yet her ghost still haunts us to this day... In one way or another-

Anyway, I hope y'all had fun!! I'll see y'all again for Day 5!!

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annamaryllis · 3 months

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I would like to know exactly how luke asking annabeth to run away with him went down.

#annabeth🥺#it's sad to think about how it'll be so much harder for annabeth to unpack and heal from that relationship bc he's dead #it's hard enough to come to terms with someone you love/held in high esteem hurting you so deeply #but she's also grieving him too so it's even harder to hold him accountable to herself and recognizing the good and the bad #she may struggle to not romanticize the memory of him #sorting through what about their relationship was pure and genuine and what was fueled by other stuff #both of their trauma really played into it in some of the worst ways...#but to even recognize how her trauma played into it she'd have to identify what her trauma even is and how it's affected her life #it's really complex and difficult work #and bc he's gone she'll never get to question him on stuff like what he was thinking at certain points and why #so certain things will never get the best closure #ugh it's all so fucked up #MAYBE SOMETHING WE COULD HAVE EXPLORED IN HOO RICHARD???? BUT NO #and it would have been perfect too bc she'd also be dealing with issues caused by both of her parents triggered by the MoA quest #like her mother's conditional love #and trauma from her mortal family #and her fear of spiders relates to both of these things bc it's a phobia that's passed down from her mom's actions #so she's being punished for something she's not responsible for and also being burdened with a quest simply for being her mother's daughter #and it also represents her mortal family's neglect bc they ignored her needs and all that...#AND THEN the only person she's received actually pure and good unconditional love from was snatched from her for 6 months #and the MoA quest could have been a way to confront some of these fears and wounds...so she's a little stronger by tartarus which #should bring out the best in her and the worst in percy #and then he can work through some stuff too down there #HoO could have been a journey for them where they're undone and then healed #bc at the end of everything they have the medicine to literally everything which is real love (which they have for each other intensely)#the rant I could go on about this...I have so many thoughts about what HoO should have been. maybe one day #annabeth chase #luke castellan #✏️

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sparky-is-spiders · 9 months

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Hi! I’m here suffering from lack of good Archivist!Sasha content as well 😭 On that note, do you have any fic on that topic you would recommend? Or just good Sasha fics in general, (or Jonsasha, if that’s your cup of tea)? Thank you in advance 😊

Tragically, I think there is a general dearth of good Archivist!Sasha content (and just about none of it Jonsasha content, as far as I can tell (and not only is Jonsasha my cup of tea, but the ONLY thing standing between it and the #1 OTP spot (currently occupied by JE) is the fact that the Jonsasha that I desperately crave exists in my brain and nowhere else)). Admittedly, I haven't looked very far into her tag yet (I should rectify that at some point tbh) but I've dug around the Jonsasha tag when I first got into it, and I know at least one fic where Sasha drifts towards Beholding through an interest in office gossip.

In terms of Jonsasha Ao3 has:

This very good Sasha lives fic where Jon shows up to Georgie's with an unconscious Sasha and everyone involved is very confused.

These two fics are cute also. The former is by @/suttttton and is them getting together, the latter is established Jonsasha from @/dickwheelie.

Eyevatar Sasha might actually be thinner on the ground (outside of fix-its where she solves everything and her canon reckless curiosity is completely ignored). Ao3 has:

This fic, which is Jongerry with outsider PoV Sasha. Just barely has the implication that she might be shifting towards the Eye (via prying into the lives of her coworkers) but gets a mention through sheer force of Excellent Sasha Characterization. I read this and I feel like I'm reading a fic from a Sasha Understander.

There's also this fic, which looks very promising but which I haven't actually gotten the chance to read yet, so I can't speak to its quality.

Unfortunately I've only gotten into Sasha fairly recently (especially as compared to Jon, who my brain latched onto in a deathgrip from the start), so I haven't gone through her tag yet. A scroll through the Archivist!Sasha or Beholding Avatar!Sasha tags pulls up a lot of fix-it and J//mart, which isn't really what I'm looking for from the concept. I'm sure there's more out there, and if/when I find them I'll come back to this ask probably, but I lucked into Reverse Nighthawks (I was on a Jongerry kick).

But god every day I wish that I could write romance and/or longfic, because about a year ago I read a Jonmichael fic that, when discussing alternate universes (where Jon ended the world) it's revealed that he once did an apocalypse out of love for his Archivist, Sasha James. And it was one (1) single line, but it struck me so hard because god. A perfect concept I think. The potential dynamics of Archivist!Sasha/Assistant!Jon are enthralling to me. Jon destroying the world (or helping her destroy the world? Cute date night I think: bringing about armageddon with your eldritch monster partner) for Sasha... anyway mostly I mentioned that one because My God if I have to live with that tantalizing AU rotating in the background of my mind 24/7 so do the rest of you.

#also I'm very sorry how much this was About Jon #I really /do/ love sasha it's just that jon lives in my brain literally all the time #I am incapable of making a single solitary tma post that is not like 50% about him #not a Single One #every character and relationship and dynamic must somehow include jon to interest me. I struggle to care about jon-less anythings #it's a Problem #anyway I really really love sasha and want to write her one day but I need to finish my JE stuff first #the thing is the sasha in my brain is in zero other places #I extrapolated some stuff from canon to create a Blorbo but I don't think many other people interpret her the same way #I have some sasha and jonsasha stuff lying around somewhere but the gist is that I think sasha should become a morally questionable eyevata #who feeds the eye by invading people's privacy ''accidentally.'' based on her actions in the s1 finale she's probably a good person usually #but is reckless when protecting those she cares about and ESPECIALLY when curious and I want her to be a lil freaky with it #too tired to string my sasha thoughts together properly but they're mostly about how she should have a fun corruption arc #I want her to end the world in s3. I want her to have extremely difficult and complicated feelings about leaving the institute. about being #an eyevatar also. I think she didn't get enough screentime to say a lot for certain but she has enough interesting and complex things in he #brain that she could offer an interesting perspective if she survived or was the archivist. I also think she and martin should've switched #places. sorry martinlikers but she had more stuff going for her and also her perspective would be unique and interesting instead of yet #another 'the Eye is Bad.' that's actually the jonsasha thing I like the most. reading her statement and there's so many parallels between #her and jon. I think they'd compliment each other in a way literally no other jonship could manage #anyway sorting tags #jonsasha #asks #thank you for the ask btw!! I am. VERY. passionate about this subject. sasha has so much potential and stuff going for her but I get so #bitter because nobody is willing to engage with the stuff I find most interesting about her. probably another reason it took me as long as #it did to get Attached to her. I spent too much time with fanon sasha who's had the potential and complexity and points of interest #stripped away so that she can fix the world for jm to get together which is so much more boring than whatever the hell was wrong with her #(affectionate) (I like my characters a lil weird and fucked up. a lot weird and fucked up even)#ok veryvery tired need to stop rambling and think about sasha some more.#oh wait one more thought actually she's autistic and trans (projecting but also. like. tell me i'm wrong) thank you and goodnight

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uozlulu · 23 hours

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A Discord group I'm in: Here's a prompt list for Pride month. Let's write some DM fics! Me: Oh boy oh boy! I've not written for this fandom in a while Me: [reads all the prompts] Me: [several hours later] Me: Low key want to write a fic where when Claudia runs away she ends up in France and meets Santiago and in turn the coven Me: Me: Me: Many thoughts not sure if I can write them but many thoughts and none of them what I thought I'd get inspiration to write

#anyway many thoughts head full of santiago and claudia bonding over killing mortals and hating their fathers #many thoughts about all the gaping logic loops #louis appears part way through the fic because he's been looking for her #he takes up with armand #lestat appears later because he burried himself in dirt at some point #down side to this is vichy france at some point #upside is i know stuff about vichy france #claudia can meet madeleine when they're closer in age to each other or something #and have that awkward my girlfriend is getting older/not aging drama #something something #i don't want to take the time to write it to bomb it #but i don't think i'd bomb it either #but i'm not sure it'd be good enough either #we'll see how it goes #let it rattle in my head a bit more #things i think about #things to write #iwtv spoilers #sort of #interview with the vampire amc

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leatherbookmark · 2 years

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sitting and thinking (in the context of my fic but also in general) about the things about jgy that lxc doesn’t know, but specifically those that wwx KNOWS but won’t tell him. because that would make him soft, and we don’t want that

#like this is so infuriating #in the novel... there literally is no last scar on wwx's forearm. there's no Imperative forcing him to solve the mystery Lest He Dies #and yet. and yet. the way lxc's reluctance to hop on the detective xianlock weimes train is almost framed as this... irritating obtuseness #and like i KNOW jgy did those things that lxc didn't want to believe he did. but wwx's approach is so impersonal sometimes #it Is just a mystery and uncovering it is fun for him. and i guess in a mystery novel it's also exciting for the detective to find all the #clues and exclaim that it was the butler that did it! but ignoring the circumstances that led the butler to do it to em is just Mean Okay #especially since we're holding in our hands a How Wei Wuxian Did It To Em: The Novel #that's the way it starts: wei wuxian the murderous yiling laozu! thank god he's dead! and then we find out that he wasn't an one-dimensional #villain! but while wwx can sort of say SAME HAT about the way jgy becomes the scapegoat in the span of like one day... as many people #before me said they have exactly zero feelings about each other. Nothing. and it's not a bad thing! it's interesting and ironic and makes #you lie down and go AAAAAA WHAT IF...!!!#but going back to lxc. he seems to know that jgy killed his father and that qin su was his sister but he wasn't at the lotus pier when the #cultivators talked about it and theorized about What Else he Definitely Did #wwx didn't tell him a thing about the brothel or meng shi's body. and i'm just very horizontal about it. i need to lie the fuck down #i still after 84 years have Not read the extras but like. is lxc sitting out there? wasting away? Uninformed? PROBABLY HE IS YEAH #because it's not like wwx cares particularly and at this point i think lwj would mentally spit if not piss on jgy's grave for hurting lxc #so they have zero business telling him stuff that might frame jgy in another more nuanced light. but also even if they did. then what?#hey this guy you were tricked into killing because you thought he didn't do murders but he did and it flipped your view of him upside down #so much that you believed that he genuinely would attack you? yeah about that we think he might have just wanted to get his mother's body #back. yeah from this temple where he essentially deified her. the temple he built where the brothel was. yeah they were treated horribly #out there and like i guess jgy wanted to make sure his mom would never have to suffer like that again or something. anyway thats all yea bye #i'm sad.#shut up shrimp

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arklay · 2 years

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sorry i can’t shut up. posts one thing and can’t stop

#leah.txt #so that little nod to diana’s grandma i’m sorry i’m just. i haven’t talked about this before so argrhrhrg but diana grew up in a very arts #based family. her mother an opera singer and her father a dance. her younger sister also went on to become a professional dancer to with #mainly ballet but also contemporary. diana also did those two growing up alongside learning to play the violin and piano. her grandma was a #sculptor and while diana’s parents were often just not home she spent a lot of time with her grandma and would just sit with her in her #studio and watch her work. but you can kind of imagine everyone’s surprise at her wanting to go into science… she really just had such an #interest in snakes from a young age and she wanted to learn more about them. just loved little creechurs. always wanted to go to zoos and #whatnot and like i thinks she may or may not actually have a tiny little snake tattoo somewhere. not sure yet. but when she was like i want #to study snek her parents were so like… you want to go into science? how about medicine then instead? maybe be a doctor or a dentist or– no #i wanna study reptiles thank you :) and like that was that kind of but her parents were so like. no. but her grandma made her a little snak #figure for her birthday one year and always told her if that’s what she wants to do then she should do it. and they were really close and #diana isn’t really sentimental about much of anything with her family but she still has the bangle her grandma gave her when she graduated #with her bachelors. and like i know it’s such a tiny detail to just chuck in about sculptures but diana’s just connection to art despite #being very much like super sciencey seems like she doesn’t really like that sort of stuff it’s kinda just like always going to be there. i #also have a vague moment of just like [refacted] watching her play violin once and being like in awe like as if she couldn’t be skilled #enough you know? but anyway yeah diana very much broke the mould in her family and was like no i’m going to uni to study biology i don’t #care what you think i don’t want to dance i hate it you already know this and she just went from there… working in her little zoos and #animal sanctuaries and being just the weird snake lady before like moving to america on research opportunity where she ends up getting her #phd like argjrgrhrhrgrh i have so many thoughts and feelings about her at all times you don’t understand #i need to go to sleep lmao but aaaaaaa #lmao i’m not fixing more of these typos it’s too funny

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jibunwo · 3 months

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let me game in peace couldve been so good if the author thought women were people.

#got so mad about what they did to an jing i started crying. easily the most interesting character and yet she got like zero screen time and #nobody even fucking told her she was adopted.#every time zhou wen did fucking anything we had to see what randos like xia liuchuan and zhang chunqiu thought about it but instead of #writing how an jing feels about the guy she was switched at birth with the author had her shipped off to chess mountain where she stayed off #the internet and hung out with the thearch doing fuck all and we only got like a paragraph on how she even felt about the thearch #manipulating her and fucking nothing on how she was actually the one the thearch was supposed to be waiting for the whole time and not zhou #wen because NOBODY FUCKING TOLD HER. which was reasonable when telling her might blow up the whole world but once zhou wen basically became #god it was like. ok now that the earth is not going to be destroyed if something triggers an awakening in her you do sort of need to tell #her about this. but no zhou wen feels a bit guilty about getting most of the stuff her bio mom left for her and thats more important than #her knowing shes earths companion beast. but an tianzuo can know because hes a man <3 #like there were plenty of other women he did dirty but an jing really got the worst of it. ugh #mine #lmgip #<- unfortunately i have so many feelings

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evilminji · 2 months

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Ooooh~ Drink mix up? >.>

Because! Wes DID, in fact, get that dream job. HAS learned... after many, many hours of "beat about the head and shoulders with an ethics pamphlet by his great aunt", to keep his mouth shut! Family curse of Sight? WHAT family curse?

He doesn't see shit! Mind your business.

What're you? A cop?

Look, he sent Fenton a gift basket. He was a shitty, shitty "I have to be RIGHT and nothing else matters!" Stubborn lil asshole of a kid. He got better. Grew up. No one is there best Self during puberty. He DOES, in fact, regret it.

Which is WHY, he is deliberately ignoring Kent's terrible, awful, paper-thin, "who meee~?" Aw shucks BULLSHIT excuse of a disguise, like it isn't blatantly obvious he's Superman. Yep. Nothing to see here! Nothing but us chickens! Mmmmm, morning coffee! Delicious.

But see, here's the THING.

The Itty, bitty, teeny lil PROBLEM...

Wes grew up in Amity "Totally Not Supernatural Hotspot For Centuries" Park. He is... to put it mildly, genetically? A freak. His biology is ALL fucked up. Everyone's is. And it WAS NOT made better by the Fenton's playing fast and loose with their hell basement. The Ectoplasmic NUKE that was that portal.

There is a REASON his morning coffee? Is COVERED. Contained. Fenton brand, LEAD LINED, specialty cups. The sort that can't be EATEN from the inside out. Eroded after a few uses. They're ugly as sin, but they work. He even ordered a few covers from Star's etsy shop. (Apparently he wasn't the only one who hated how ugly they looked. Good for her though, he heard it was doing well.)

He SAYS this? 'Cause his morning brew is less... straight COFFEE... and more... how to put this? A blend? Brew? Potion, really. Like an energy drink. From hell. Or, partially at least, the Zone. It's the combination of roots, seeds, and a few dried berries. Kinda like a tea, actually!

Tasty. Adds this nice fruity, warmth. A zing. Goes GREAT with the coffee. And it really perks you up... if you are Limnal. If you AREN'T? It'll desolve your esophagus like swallowing straight acid. And that's not TOUCHING the... witch-y, more Seer specific bit of the blend.

That stuff is medicinal. You know, "calm the mind" and "mental clarity". That sorta thing. With a good ol helping of "don't blurt out everyone's secrets, you spacey bitch! For the love of God, those are our INSIDE THOUGHTS!". Which? Really helpful! Infinitely less likely to get decked. It's a family staple.

Poisonous, though.

They're fine cause they've basically developed an immunity to that part, but like? Wouldn't recommend. It's why he NEVER shares his drinks. Food? On occasion. If he PLANS it and knows not to add and interesting spices. But DRINKS? Never. Weston family brews are basically NEVER safe.

Which? Begs the Very Important Question ™!

Who's Coffee Is This?

Cause it SURE AS FUCK AINT HIS!

You never realize quite how fast you can go from "completely calm and kinda sleepy" to "bomb strapped to my chest, primal panic AWAKE" until it happens to you. His coffee was ON HIS DESK. People have passed by. He talked to them. Cups put down and picked up. Lazy early morning. He doesn't even register, really, as his chair crashes to the ground.

He's shouting.

People confused. They don't realize yet. His head whips around, looking for that distinct cover. Before it's too late. Before someone takes that fatal sip. He spots it. Bolting from his desk. Crashing through coworkers, over desks. Chaos and outrage. "It's 'just' coffee!" They cry.

Kent turns, confused. Pretending. Raises his (HIS! Oh god!) cup to his lips, unknowing. Wes SCREAMS a warning. But he doesn't listen. "It's 'just' coffee" They never listen. Curse of Cassandra. God's damn it. This is why his family fucking CONVERTED!

He TACKLES the man of steel.

RIPS his cup away from him, knows his eyes are frantic. How much have you had?! Spit it out! Wes voice ECHOES in the sudden silence. I'm a META, Kent! It could KILL YOU!

And oh, Oh NOW they get it. Or perhaps it is the burn in his mouth that finally registers. He rolls, spits oil slick nebulae that eat away the floor. There is blood mixed within it. It took mere moments. Superman stares, transfixed and horrified, as Wes shakes. He... he should probably get off of him.

He'll move in a moment.

When his legs no longer feel weak from terror.

The news room is in chaos. Lane kneeling by her husband, Perry trying to do damage control. He... he's probably gonna lose his job, isn't he? Wes wants to cry. Protection laws only go so far, after all. And warning his boss about his dietary needs means jack shit, after an incident like this. Beloved as Kent is. Not that anyone likely believed him.

They never do.

And now he's nearly killed Superman.

@hypewinter @hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @nerdpoe @lolottes @babbling-babull @mutable-manifestation @dcxdpdabbles

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt #minji's writing #killer coffee au #weston family brew #will make you see god or meet im

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joeloverture · 5 months

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hook 'em horny | j.m. x f!reader

masterlist : coach!joel masterlist pairing: college football coach!joel miller x reader summary: [no outbreak] seeking petty revenge on your cheating quarterback ex-boyfriend leads you somewhere you shouldn't be — and then it lands you over the knee of his coach. warnings: (18+ mdni, don't make me say it again.) cheating done by a referenced oc, briefest mention of drugs, porn barely garnished with plot, age gap (22/52), smut, unprotected piv sex, creampie, vaginal fingering, potentially dubcon by way of power imbalance but consent is enthusiastic, daddy kink, sir kink, 'punishment' spanking, degradation, praise, brat tamer!joel, dom!joel, joel spits on her ass but otherwise no butt stuff, mild choking, body writing, so many pet names of so many varieties, aftercare, surprisingly fluffy [no use of y/n] word count: 6.4k a/n: this is a crazy idea to have considering joel can hardly handle ellie. i don't think he'd be able to handle ~118 college-aged boys. however, the idea of football coach! joel is hot to me (i mean, seriously, look at those sluts on the sidelines) so i made it happen. on a serious note, i am so sorry to the unnamed university this is based on. i toured you. i'm legacy. but... joel miller. let's make it clear this is for entertainment purposes only. this is a fictional work about fictional people that does not reflect the school itself, which is a fine institution whose head coaches historically do not fuck students in the locker rooms. shoutout to my dad who, unknowing what this information would be used for, explained to me how he snuck into this stadium 3x. don't do that, either.

You can’t even remember the last time you made a good decision.

Your track record definitely isn’t the cleanest: you chose to go to school in Texas, and then chose to stay there for four years. Choosing to go to that frat party in late junior year wasn’t your brightest moment, either, evidenced by the resulting hangover from hell and, predictably, frat flu. All things considered, those choices pale in comparison to hooking up with their all-star quarterback, Lucas Scott.

Dirty-blonde, blue-eyed, muscled Lucas Scott. He’s the sort of guy who looks like an eight when you’re looking at him after a few shots of tequila and a four when you’re sober. The sort of guy who, after over a year of dating, makes you split the bill halfway after ordering the more expensive entree. Crowned as the most efficient, precise, and instinctive quarterback the Longhorns have ever had. Apparently that instinct hadn’t been enough to drive him away from dipping his wick in every sorority girl’s candle wax.

No matter how much post-orgasm Lucas panted into his ear that he loved you, you weren’t stupid enough to trick yourself into believing it. Staying with him was the easier choice, not yet wanting to reduce yourself to locker room talk. Walking in on him sloppily fucking some redhead nursing major was the breaking point. When it became less about you and more about your dignity.

So, yeah, you’ve never been one for making good decisions, and you certainly aren’t about to start now.

You thought breaking into the stadium would be some sort of monumental task. Trespassing here was normally reserved for campus rooftops and after-hours exploration, but once you’d gotten this batshit crazy idea in your head, you knew it wasn’t going to shake until you at least proved it couldn’t be done.

The open garage at the back of the building doesn’t help to deter you. It’s like there’s a welcome-mat outside saying, ‘Come on in and get what you deserve!’.

Who would you be to decline such a sincere invitation?

The garage is empty apart from some cushy golf carts, and the steel door behind them couldn’t be more tempting. If it’s locked, you tell yourself, you’ll go back to the dorm and forget about your incident of near-trespassing.

You take small steps to the door, testing the handle. It springs right open, and all thoughts of leaving dissipate from your mind.

Who leaves the garage open and forgets to lock the door? Probably people with just as little between their ears (and legs) as Lucas. You scoff in half-disbelief, half-luck as you close the door behind you.

The energy feels stagnant this late at night, no announcer on the loudspeaker or swarms of burnt orange hats and T-shirts standing shoulder-to-shoulder. Industrial lights flicker above, their hums loud enough to make you wonder if you have tinnitus. Concrete lines the hallways, interrupted by a few silver-painted pipes arranged in a labyrinth up against the walls. A few security cameras are pointed at you. Before going any further, you pause to raise the hood of your Longhorns sweatshirt.

Even if you should be, you aren’t in much of a rush; you amble about, really taking in the sterile ambiance of the empty stadium. You turn a few corners, going in what feels like the right direction. You figure you’re getting closer when you spot what looks like it could be a security tower. Crouching behind a trash can, you wait it out, trying to peer through the untinted windows to figure out if there’s anyone in there at all. When you’ve determined it’s unmanned and let out a shallow exhale, you go back up to full posture and keep wandering around unsupervised.

You know you’re in the right place when you find your toes hovering over a red line painted on the oil-stained concrete: AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY BEYOND THIS POINT.

Bingo.

Crossing that line without really thinking about it, you stick to your (so far) tried and true method of going wherever feels the most promising until you’re standing in front of the two black doors you were looking for. The door’s handle is an obnoxiously large longhorn, and you quite literally have to hook ‘em to get inside.

You’re starting to understand where the rest of the university’s funding is going when you walk into the locker room. After dating Lucas for a year, you know the football team is full of itself, but the Longhorniness of it all is… excessive. There’s the silhouette of the logo glowing on the goddamn ceiling, and if the jerseys the players are wearing on their digital nameplates isn’t enough of an indicator of who they play for, every backlit locker has a drawer with, you guessed it: a longhorn painted at the center. A brown vinyl couch wraps around the front of the room in direct view of a powered down videoboard that you can only assume replays highlight reels.

You roll your eyes. Again, your track record with decision-making isn’t the best, because you chose a school who puts every penny towards sweaty frat boys with brain damage from the amount of concussions they get.

And then you see it: a sign tacked onto the middle aisle of lockers that reads CORE VALUES. From top to bottom, HONESTY, TREAT WOMEN WITH RESPECT, NO DRUGS, NO STEALING, and NO WEAPONS. You have to physically clamp your jaw shut to restrict your laughter at the second one.

It doesn’t take you long to find what you’re looking for. Lucas Scott, #10.

His sweat-stained jersey hangs limply from the rack, and you eagerly tear it off, tossing it down onto the floor. Eager like a child ready to color outside the lines of a coloring book, you kneel down in front of it, pulling out the one thing you had prepared for tonight. A bold black Sharpie.

You pop the cap with your teeth, spitting it out somewhere on the floor as you start scribbling. Disguising your handwriting isn’t intentional, but you’re writing so carelessly and on such a foreign material that it comes naturally. Your tongue sticks out of the corner of your mouth as you work. In a year and a half, you’d never felt such satisfaction about — and certainly not from — Lucas.

TWO PUMP CHUMP along the side. FIVE INCHES FULL MAST on the other. CHEATER at the bottom. WHORE across the front.

A throat clears behind you. You drop the Sharpie, a blot of ink forming on the mesh. You startle backwards, scooting until your back hits that stupid longhorn drawer. You’re expecting a janitor, maybe a security guard if you’re extra unlucky.

That isn’t the worst of your options, apparently, because when you look up, it’s at Joel fucking Miller, head coach of the longhorn’s football team.

Your lower lip starts trembling, and that moment is when you decide maybe you need to start making good decisions. You’ve heard enough about Joel from Lucas to know he’s a total hardass. He could drag you by the ear to the dean and have you kicked out at the tail end of your second to last semester in this hellhole.

He glares down at you with his head cocked, hazel eyes far darker than they ever seem on TV. His scruff stipples his hardened jawline, lips thinned out like the worry lines pressed onto his forehead. If you were interested in digging yourself any deeper, you might stall to think about how good he looks: the faint trail of chest hair vanishing down into the neckline of his longhorns polo shirt, his fitted khakis, broad leather belt slung around his waist, and the slight bulge of tummy above it. You swallow hard and kick yourself for it.

“What exactly,” Coach Miller drawls, voice syrupy and sticky. “do ya think you’re doin’?”

Your mouth moves, but no words come out. He doesn’t seem very amused, his muscled arms crossing over his wide torso.

Joel shakes his head. “Ain’t a good look for you, hun, scrawlin’ that chicken scratch all over my QB’s jersey. Could get a real ugly charge for that.”

Heart crashing into your ribcage, you bite down on your lip. “I can pay the damages,” you blurt out.

He sizes you up all over again, eyes dragging up and down your body. They linger on your chest for a few extra seconds that you’re convinced that you just made up. “Can you, sugar? ‘Cause to me, looks like you’re the type to be chasin’ tips at whatever joint hires you.”

You don’t have the bandwidth to be as offended as you should be, especially because he’s right. You settle for glowering at him instead. A huff of laughter pinches out of him. “You give everyone you vandalize that blue look? Or is that lil’ number jus’ because you found out Lucas really ain’t that loyal?” With ease, Joel bulldozes over whatever thinning resolve you have remaining.

“What’s that sign over there say? ‘Treat women with respect’?” You say. Joel’s backlit like all of those over budgeted lockers behind him. You squint your eyes. “You know that’s fucking bullshit. So what if I give him a taste of his own medicine when he’s been a minute man for every girl with a pulse on this campus?” You cap your Sharpie and clip it back onto your collar and get to your feet. So much for good decisions. “Fuck right off with that.”

“Hey, hey. Down, hun.” Joel holds his hands out to you, and you notice just how heavily you’ve been breathing, just how close you are to him. “Never said you were wrong. Kid’s a fuck up in all sorts ‘a ways. But I don’t like how you’re mouthin’ off at me, Miss Priss. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re in dire need of a spankin’ to set you right.”

Your breath cuts short and your cunt bottoms out without your permission. You don’t need a mirror to know your eyes just went glassy, your lips parted as your mouth goes desert dry. As discreetly as you can manage, you squeeze your thighs together.

Joel doesn’t miss it. You can tell from the moment his brows raise and his eyes sparkle, the corner of his mouth picking up a smidge. “Oh, yeah? That do somethin’ for ya, hun? Nasty little girl.” There’s a dangerous, uneven grit to his voice that has arousal burning like a candle in your stomach, the wax of your arousal syrupy against your thighs already.

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips. Fuck.

“No,” you breathe out stubbornly, but you’ve already given yourself away, even to yourself. The insides of your thighs are molten, twitching with every throb of your clit between your legs. That flush of warmth from your pelvis is spreading, overheating.

Joel tuts. “You really think that? You can whine all you want ‘bout wantin’ respect, but at the end ‘a the day, you just wanna be treated like some whore, huh?” And, yeah, he has you figured out, has you in the palm of his hand. Even though you have no idea what someone like him could do to someone like you, you want him to do it. You want to find out. “I’ll tell ya what, sugar, you walk outta here right now and nobody but me’s gonna know you came pitchin’ a hissy fit in my locker room.”

You frown at that, a small arc of your pouty lips that has Joel’s eyes gleaming.

“Or,” he says. “You can pull those wet fuckin’ panties down – don’t gimme that look, I know they are – and I can give ya a real lesson in respect.” He shrugs, hands going to his waist as he looks you up and down.

He knows he has you the same way you know, but you aren’t just going to give in that easily. You flare your nose and counter, “If there’s nothing keeping me here other than a firm hand, why should I stay?”

He’s looking at you like he wants to take you apart. His fingers jump against his hips for the opportunity to break you down.

“Sweetness,” Joel shakes his head as if it’s obvious. “if you let me, I could make you feel good. I’m guessin’ you got some vibrator sittin’ in the back of your desk drawer to use when your roommate’s out ‘n about, but you don’t wanna use that tonight, do ya? You want the real thing, hun, and I’d give it to ya real nice once I teach ya to behave.”

There it is again: Coach Joel Miller has you all figured out. Every syllable he says is doomed to send another shiver up your spine, and damn it, fuck playing coy.

You’re too busy tearing off your hoodie to think about how unsexily dressed you are, but the rushed nature of your actions punches a chuckle out of Joel. “Eager thing.” You’re halfway through kicking your shoes and leggings off when he saunters over to the couch, plopping down on the edge and patting his broad, khaki-covered thigh. Your mouth waters when you look back and see just how much the fabric strains against his leg. “Whenever you’re ready, hun.”

You waddle over to him, stripped down to the basics of your sports bra and everyday panties. It’s the furthest thing from erotic, but the way he’s looking at you isn’t. It’s primal and ravenous, enough to have you forgetting all about how you’d even gotten there in the first place. He licks his lips as he trails his eyes all over you, darkening a couple of shades when he looks at your cleavage. “Lucas is a fuckin’ idiot, baby.”

“Knew that already,” you mumble.

He pats his thigh again, bounces his leg. “C’mon, over my knee like the good girl I know you can be. Hurry up and I’ll only give ya five.”

You shuffle forward, relishing in the rubbing of your thighs that comes from it. He’s sitting on the corner of the couch at the perfect angle for you to rest your head on the arm. It doesn’t take any more convincing for you to put yourself over his lap, not that he needed to do much in the first place. You feel so much smaller than him. Your ass is up for him to do whatever he’d like to; it’s a tantalizing feeling you hadn’t gotten out of any intimacy – if you could call it that — with Lucas.

“Mmmmmm,” Joel groans as he runs a hand between your legs. He rubs at your slit through the soaked gusset of your panties. You can’t stop the way your hips buck, or the pitiful shout that jumps off your lips when he pins you down by the small of your back, robbing you of any friction. Between one arousal-riddled breath and the next, Joel tugs your panties off and flings them to the side. You know how it feels, tacky and cold on your core and thighs, so you can only imagine how it must look. Joel gives you a pretty good idea when he reveres, “Goddamn, pretty cunt is throbbin’ for it.”

He pulls apart your folds and you think you hear him lick his lips above you before he lets them go. The schlick noise your dripping pussy makes is nothing less than pornographic. Joel gropes you carefully, kneads the skin of your ass like you have all the time in the world. Under his ministrations, it’s easy to melt into the couch, forgetting why you’re there in the first place until his palm cracks down on your ass cheek.

The stinging impact has a slurred hnnnngh leaving your lips, and a fresh gush of wetness between your legs to accompany it. You keep your head tucked into the sanctuary of your folded arms, eyes squeezed shut so tight you swear you’re seeing stars. Joel’s quick to rub the spanked patch of skin, his palm soothing his ache. “That’s one, baby.” You nod into your arms. “Think you can take four more?” Another nod.

“I need to hear ya, hun. C’mon, head up f’me.” He taps the side of your cheek, and you prop your cheek up on your forearm. “Think you can take four more?” he repeats.

Your voice hitches, courtesy of the beating that echoes in your chest and between your legs. “Y-yes…”

When the second hit lands, you don’t expect it. You flinch away from his hand when it comes down with a clap that leaves you squirming in his lap. “Yes, what?”

“Yes sir,” you whine out, back arching. Although a punishment, that spank has the same effect as the last: a live wire of arousal strung from your spine to your cunt.

“Takin’ it well,” he praises, squeezing your ass cheeks together. “Sure didn’t expect anyone to come crawlin’ in when I left that garage open, ‘specially not some slut like you with an ass that needs a spankin’ six ways to Sunday.” Just as quick as he can build you up, he can take you down a notch, but you can’t mind when it has you moaning all the same. “Oh, she likes that,” Joel clicks.

He rubs your ass again, and you’re bracing yourself for that next strike, pulled stiff with an arousing, anticipatory sort of fear. Only when you convince yourself it isn’t coming do you let all of that tension flood out of your body — and that’s when Joel smacks his hand across your far-too-trustworthy ass.

You cry out, pouting over your shoulder at Joel, who has a proud smirk drawn all over his face. You don’t even feel your hips rocking down, seeking whatever pleasure you can get until he reprimands, “Ruttin’ against my fuckin’ leg, now, huh? Don’t pretend you don’t like this.”

With a particularly good grind of your hips, you feel his bulge pressing into your thigh. From a mere graze alone, you can tell it’s huge. A whimper tears out of you at the same time he groans above you. “You got nothin’ to prove, ain’t gonna change the fact you’re a slut who needs to get spanked ‘n stuffed to talk ‘er into behavin’ a bit.”

“Can’t even follow your own rules,” you huff, apparently still interested in shooting yourself in the foot even when Coach Miller has you ass-up over his knee.

“Don’t see how you care…” Joel slides a hand down between your legs. He rubs at your clit, an intense pressure that has you wanting more and less all at the same time, before dragging a thick finger across your opening. Arousal squelches between your legs and your hips jump – a dead giveaway to just how turned on you are, whether you like it or not. “when it gets you this turned on,” he finishes. Then that same finger is prodding at your mouth, glistening with your wetness. You whimper before tasting yourself, sucking obediently on his finger until he pulls away with a pop.

You sulk, “Don’t act like I can’t feel you ripping a hole in your jeans, Miller–”

The fourth spank is the hardest by far. The skin of your ass feels bitten by Joel’s ‘firm hand’. It’s the kind of hit that makes your legs kick in his lap and your fingers clutch in the couch’s arm for purchase. You wail, “Daddy!” Pain disappears from your mind when you realize what exactly you just said, quickly replaced by the churning coolant of embarrassment. If you were paying attention to anything else other than the shame suddenly inhabiting your chest, you might’ve been able to feel the twitch of his cock in his pants.

“Daddy, huh?” Joel hums, rubbing your hurt ass with one hand while the other strokes your shoulder. You bury your face back in your arms as an apology takes shape in the back of your throat. “Lucas your daddy, too?”

“No!” You squeak, adjusting in his lap. The hood of your clit catches on the rough material of Joel’s pants. Unable to stop yourself, you hump his knee again, shallow rolls of your hips. You can still feel his hardness against you. Needily, you tip your head up, panting as foggy pleasure hangs over your head.

“Stop makin’ a mess of daddy’s dress pants, baby, unless you wanna be on your knees, lickin’ it up.” You keen, and he chuckles knowingly. “Shoulda known, little whore like you gets off on that.”

Joel gives you a longer reprieve between the fourth and fifth spank. Instead, he strokes your ass and asks, “One more gonna be enough to set you straight, sweetheart?”

“Y..yes daddy,” you whimper. He hums in approval.

You shift back and forth, waiting for it to come — and when it does, it’s softer. It’s by no means a love pat, but it pales in comparison to his previous work. You still sniffle, squeezing your thighs together as he coos, “I know, I know. Poor baby, actin’ all high ‘n mighty. Can’t be on her high horse when she’s over Daddy’s knee.” Gentle, he pats your ass and guides you on all fours at the edge of the couch. He hums in approval. “See? Not throwin’ a hissy fit anymore. She’s all nice ‘n obedient when you get ‘er to act right.”

Joel spreads your pussy with his thumbs, and you hear the vulgar noise of him collecting his saliva before you feel his spit landing on your clenching hole. You’ve never felt so empty, not when your bottom drawer vibrator is buzzing against your core, definitely not when Lucas fucks you in the same old missionary. Whimpering for him, you arch your back to try to rub against his crotch.

“Quit your whinin’,” he snips, his thumb finding your clit in one swipe. Joel’s touch is firm, but not too firm, just enough to make your hips push down with a need only he’s ever made you feel.

Without warning, his middle finger slides inside of you, thick and calloused and so, so right. “Fuckin’... tight.” Another slides in as he starts scissoring you open, apparently satisfied enough when he crooks his fingers deep in your cunt. Instantly, he catches that spongy spot that you can never reach on your own. You nearly crumple with the sensation, limbs going weak and buckling. “That the spot?” he asks, but he already knows.

“Mhm,” you moan, chin instinctively tucking against your chest as if you can get away from the pleasure he’s giving you, as if you’d ever want to.

Then — he stops.

His fingers sit heavy inside of you, so close to where you need them to go. “What the fuck, Joel?”

"Baby, s’that how you get what you want?” He rubs your thigh with his free hand and gives it a quick swat. “Help daddy out, tight girl. I'm not just gonna let you get away with bein’ a spoiled brat. Work yourself on my fingers."

You’re putty in the palm of his hand – malleable, docile for him to treat or mistreat you however gets him hard. You whine, punching your hips back nonetheless. Grinding down, down, down, your cunt unresisting when he gives you another finger. It’s crude, the way you moan for him.

Even though he’s hardly doing anything, just the hand you’re getting yourself off on, that all-consuming strain in your body only gets stronger. “Daddy – close, please…”

“Attagirl, atta-fuckin’-girl, give it to me.” He rewards you with a press of his fingers against that golden spot inside of you. Your orgasm splinters through you, an ecstasy-charged mist fanning over your body. Your release runs down Joel’s hand and your thighs with every clench of your cunt, like you’ve been skinned and set ablaze by your own desire. You fall forward on the couch, no longer able to hold yourself up, arms a tangled mess as you gasp into the cushion. “You come so pretty, baby. Messy pussy, too. Soaked me up to my goddamn elbow.”

You’re still reeling from the best orgasm you’ve had in months, maybe ever, when you hear obscene slurping noises from behind you. You cast a look at him, your arousal returning with a vigor at the sight of Joel sucking his fingers clean. He groans at the taste, and you swear you see his cock jump in his khakis. Stomach warped with desire, you’re about to plummet off of the very dangerous edge of doing just about anything for him right now.

“Please fuck me, daddy,” you plead, and in any other position, with any other person, it might be mortifying, something worth clutching your pearls over. But this is Coach Joel Miller, the last person you ever expected to be fucking, giving you the best fuck you never expected.

“There’s those manners,” Joel praises, leaning over you to press a brief kiss to your shoulder blade. You can smell your release on his lips, a sweet smell that’s so distinctly you. He eases off of you, presumably to take off his pants. There’s the shuffling of fabric, and when he returns to your side, you’re disappointed to find he hasn’t even unbuckled his belt.

You pout at him again, still desperate to get your way. Eye-level with his bulge, you’re salivating over it. You had made a mess of his dress pants, a wet spot formed just above his knee, taunting you. You lick your lips.

“Think it’s only fair,” he says, looming over you. He’s holding the Sharpie you’d brought along with you. Your brows furrow as you look up at him through your lashes. “If I give ya the same treatment you gave his jersey.” His gaze is cocky as he pops the cap with his thumb, giving the marker a twirl.

Oh.

It shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does. Nothing about this should turn you on as much as it does, yet here you are, in a puddle of your own sweat and cum, itching for the next thing he gives you. And if it’s marking up your body before he fucks your brains out, so be it.

He nudges his head, gesturing for you to get down on your stomach. You lift your knees up and flatten yourself out on the cushions. The vinyl sticks and pulls from your skin as you get where he wants you. A soft, surprised noise leaves you when he straddles your thighs, his clothed cock nudging at your seam.

“Holy fuck,” you breathe out, because it’s the only phrase you can think of that even holds a candle to what all of this has become.

A laugh fans out from under his breath as he starts at your freshly spanked, raw ass. The Sharpie is cold and foreign, tugging at your skin as he inks you up. “Gotta make sure you match before I dick you down, don’t I? What is it you wrote on his jersey? ‘Whore’? Between the two ‘a ya, I woulda put my money on you for that one.”

If that wasn’t enough indication, you figure out what he’s doing by the time he gets to the right cheek, what feels like an ‘R’ taking shape across your ass. He finishes the ‘E’ and sets down the Sharpie for a moment, his meaty palms spreading your ass. It still thrums with the afterglow of his spanking. You don’t think you can throb any more than you already are, but then he spits on you for the second time that night, this time landing it on your puckered asshole. A gasp flutters from your lips as you grind down into the couch, his spit dripping down your folds.

“See? Real whorish, fuckin’ my couch.” He taps your ass for good measure. “Asshole makes a perfect fuckin’ ‘O’, baby. Looks a whole lot better than that chicken scratch shit you put on his jersey.” You think maybe, just maybe, he’ll dismount you and pull his cock out, but instead he keeps writing, scribbling on your back and upper thighs. Every pull of your skin under the bleeding ink has you aching for him.

When he’s content with his work, he lifts off of you, hands fumbling to undo his belt. It snaps apart, dangling open around his waist as his hands open up his khakis. “You let Lucas fuck that sweet lil’ cunt raw?” he asks.

“No, I don’t,” you admit, unable to tear your eyes away from his cock as he pulls it out, and fuck you. Your eyes don’t even feel big enough to take all of him in, and you have no idea how you’re going to fit him between your legs. You almost go cross-eyed at the sight of it, his head leaking precum.

“Thought so. You gonna let me fuck it raw?”

“Yes, daddy,” you breathe out, drool pooling in your mouth at the thought of having him inside of you, having him inside of you bare. Yet another thing you never gave to Lucas in a year of disappointing sex, but are eagerly giving up to Joel.

“Gotta be a real nasty slut,” Joel says, returning to his place atop your thighs, his thick ones framing yours. Your breath hitches when you feel the weight of his cock gliding through your ass cheeks and down to your cunt. “to let your ex-boyfriend’s coach bareback ya in the locker room.” A heady gasp tears from you when the head of his cock bumps your clit. He teases you — his cock, slippery with a combination of your arousal, skating from your clit to your spasming opening, not quite nudging in.

“Daddy, please – I need it… need you to fuck me, fuck me–”

He doesn’t make you wait any longer.

When he pushes in, it knocks the air out of your lungs. The only proof that you’re still breathing is when you let out a pitchy, desperate moan. Joel grunts, teeth gritted as he flattens himself down against your spine so he can roll his hips into yours. The pain of his size becomes an afterthought just as quickly as the pain of your spanking, dwarfed by the pleasure he gives you just as easily.

“Fuuuuck,” Joel groans, nuzzling into the crook of your neck and shoulder. Inch at a time, he works you open, grinding his hips into your opening. “Could you be any goddamn tighter?” He bites at your neck from behind with every rock of his hips into yours until he bottoms out.

“Big,” is all you manage to squeak out as he hauls you back on his cock, already prodding your g-spot with his head. Your eyes roll back as you clench around him.

His fingers go up to run circles around your shoulder, soothing you, grounding you when his cock has you anything but. “Mmm, I know, I know. You can take it. All whores can.” With that, Joel starts fucking you, really fucking you, a punishing, relentless pace where he pulls out entirely before filling you to the brim. Each snap of his hips into yours fills the locker room with shameless sounds, the mere background to your depraved moans.

“Never had your pussy stretched by a man double your age before, huh?”

“N–no! Never… never had my pussy stretched mu…much at all–”

Joel slams into you, laughs at the strained noise that you make. “Yeah? Those dumbfucks on my team not doin’ it for ya, baby?” You don’t answer, don’t think he’s expecting one until his hand wraps around your front, forearm pressed firm against your tits. His thick hand wraps lightly around your neck, jostling you. It’s not hard enough to blur your vision, but just hard enough to remind you of the power he has over you. The power you allow him to have. It’s invigorating. Everything about him is.

Moans spurt out of you as you fumble to answer, “No da– daddy! You — ah! — do it for m–me!”

“And what do you say for that? For goin’ outta my way to show you what a real fuck is?”

“Thank you, Daddy!” you cry out. You’re spilling down his thighs, the wet suction of your pussy around his cock making noises more vulgar than you’ve ever heard in porn.

His hand squeezes again at your neck, and you feel floaty, a bubble just waiting to pop. Pleasure dances in every one of your veins, every nerve ending burning like a match that he keeps striking ablaze.

“There you go, desperate slut just needs a freshly spanked ass, a good dickin’ down, and a hand ‘round her throat to behave.” Joel’s pace stays just as harsh, crushing your g-spot with his cock. “Should keep you back here for when we lose, tie you to the goddamn desk. Let my staff take turns with you, see how much crybaby you have left in ya when a dozen men’s loads are drippin’ outta your reamed fuckin’ cunt. Bet you like it when men use you.” The whine that almost gags you on its way out is enough to confirm it.

If he keeps talking to you and the wind blows the right way on your clit, you know you’ll be coming. You’re wringing out his cock with every flutter of your pulsing pussy. The beginning embers of your orgasm turn into a wildfire when he wedges his free hand down between your legs, rubbing messy circles into your sloppy clit. “Fuck, please, please, please,” you sob out, too riddled with pleasure to care about how pathetic you sound or look as you hump his hand while he pounds you.

“Can feel you squeezin’ me, baby.” Joel rasps, nipping at your ear. The hand around your throat falls fully to your chest, pressing you solid against him so he can fuck deeper, deeper, deeper. It’s enough to make you scream, hands clawing and scratching down his muscular grip on you. “C’mon, hun, give it to me, come on my cock, fuck.”

With another thrust, he has you pushed right down onto his fingers, rubbing and flicking you every which way. It’s all you need to come undone, your second orgasm of the night unlatching through you like something forked and angry, battering your sore limbs until there’s nothing left of it or you. You’re a mess, spit oozing down your chin as you slur “thank you daddy” like a broken record, thighs clamping around nothing.

Joel groans as you clench around his cock and continues his relentless pace, hips slapping against yours. The hand he’d been using to rub your clit migrates to your tits, grazing and then thumbing and then tugging lightly your nipples. “There it is, told ya you could be a good girl. Lettin’ your daddy use this cunt to get off, lettin’ me use you. I’m fuckin’ close, baby, where do you want me?”

And you want it even if you shouldn’t, want his cum deep inside of you, want it to leak out into your panties as you walk back to your dorm. You’re still no good at making decisions, too fucked out to tell right from left when you beg, “I–inside, fuck, come inside me, daddy, please.”

Joel practically growls at that, thrusts losing their steadiness as his hips jump and he hurtles towards his release. “Yeah, you’re a goddamn whore, beggin’ for this cum. And you’re gonna fuckin’ take it, yeah… fuckin’ take it.” He slams all the way into you for the last time before shooting his cum into your cunt, swearing and moaning. Breathing like he’s run a mile, he goes slack on top of you, pets the back of your head while he comes down from the exhilaration of his high.

With a gentle kiss to your shoulder, he rises, and the fantasy is over. His cock slips from your pussy, and you feel hollow with the loss. This is where he tucks himself back into his pants, runs a hand back through his hair, tells you to never show your face in his stadium again, and shoves you out the door.

And he does: tucks his softening cock into his boxers, zips up his khakis, does his belt, tames his post-sex head of hair. You wince even if you expected it, leaning down over the edge of the couch to grab your hoodie, already moving to tug it over your head.

“What do you think you’re doin’?” Joel asks, and his tone sounds much more different than the first time he’d asked you. He sounds offended. You blink confusedly, dazedly at him with your arms halfway through the armholes. “Let me clean you up, hun.” Joel side-steps the pile of your leggings and shoes, adjusting the hoodie on your arms and pulling it down your torso. “I know Lucas ain’t done you right, but you deserve to be taken care of, pretty girl.” Your heart pinches in a way that it shouldn’t, not for a hookup with your ex-boyfriend’s coach.

You shift, and he can’t help but look back between your legs where his cum escapes your hole. He manages to pry his eyes away, but not without licking his lips first. “I’ll be right back, baby. Promise.”

When he’s back, it’s with a damp rag. He crouches down in front of you, taking it to the apex of your thighs and wiping away the combination of your releases, careful not to nudge your sensitive clit. He kisses your thigh gently before pulling back, folding the towel on the arm of the couch you’d been crying into just a few minutes ago.

Joel shimmies your ruined panties up your thighs, followed by your leggings. You let him, breath cut like a snipped wire from the sheer intimacy of it all, intimacy you’d lacked with Lucas even after a year of trying. You’d stayed with him for comfortability at your own expense. How stupid could you have been?

Joel pats your knee, eyes soft and weirdly sincere as he looks at you. “I’m sorry about Lucas, honey, but I meant it when I said you deserve to be taken care of.” He rubs the back of his neck before holding something out to you. A business card, his work number plastered in bold sans-serif font across the bottom. “I know this is in reverse ‘n all, but I’d really like to take you out and treat you right, if you’ll let me.”

Saying yes is your first good decision in a while.

#vetty's words 𓇢𓆸 #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller/reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller/f! reader #joel miller x you #joel miller one shot #joel miller fic

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sardonic-the-writer · 4 months

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𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐥𝐲 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐥 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ warnings: alastor being a bit egotistical

↳ song: si j'étais blanche—joséphine baker

↳ notes: got any ideas for stuff i should do next? reblogs are appreciated

masterlist | commissions | carrd

• It wasn’t your fault you’ve always had a messed up sleep schedule

• Even while living, nighttime had never been able to tame you. It was just your luck that the habit carried on into hell. Figures that the world wouldn’t give you a break even in death

• You weren’t exactly an insomniac, per se. It was quite the opposite in fact. Just a simple case of falling victim to spontaneous naps in the most random of places. Yet never at night

• Narcoleptic & nocturnal were the terms that your friends used to use for you. With grins, they’d compared you to an owl; always up at night wandering aimlessly. Sometimes for days on end you’d carry on doing this and that, only to curl into a ball the next day and remain that way

• The habit never was anything more than a nuisance until you’d started living at the hotel. The place was just so big, with so many places for you to lie down before the thought of your bedroom even crossed your mind

• Angel Dust was the first person to find you passed out. He had been strolling into the kitchen, looking for something to consume that wasn’t drugs for once, when he spied you hunched over the counter snoring softly

• In your hand was a wooden spoon covered in a creamy batter of some sort, a bowl beneath it with the same concoction. Almost as if you had been making something before passing out

• Briefly checking his phone, the spider confirmed that it was only two in the afternoon, and approached you with a sly smile

• You were promptly startled awake by a loud shout directly next to your ear

• “I’m sorry—“ Angel laughed wildly as you fumed, not sounding sorry at all. “—but you should have seen your face.” He clutched his stomach as he fell into another laughing fit

• “Hey! Watch it!”

• He ducked with a frown as you sent the spoon flying at his head, just barely missing the porn star’s styled hair

• Everyone quickly made their own discovery about your weird sleeping habits soon after. Each in their own embarrassing ways

• Vaggie witnessed you lying on the stairs looking positively drained one morning, and Charlie even found you face first on the bar counter while Husk wiped away at a cocktail glass

• “Too much to drink?” She asked the cat, lifting up one of your arms between her thumb and forefinger carefully, almost as if you’d wake if she pressed to hard

• Husk laughed to himself at the question, remembering how he had turned to make you a shot before coming back to the sight before him now

• “Not exactly.” He huffed

• Perhaps best example of just how bad your timing was came in the form of an impromptu staff meeting

• Alastor had called everyone— more like demanded them —into the main parlor for an announcement one day. A mere week after the kitchen incident with Angel, in fact

• With a flourish of shadowy magic and a twirl of his hands, the overlord presented some sort of home made commercial on the age old TV the place had, looking very amused with himself as he did so

• You tried to pay attention, you really did. But at one point the actors and stray blood splatters started to look like the back of your eyelids

• By the time it was over, Alastor was tapping his fingers along the top of the picture box rhythmically while everyone looked at him with awkward smiles

• But you? Well—

• “So!” Alastor cheered with a cheesy grin as he spun on his heel. The rest of the members in the room watched him awkwardly, not noticing that your head had hit the back of the couch at a rough angle. “What do you all thi— are they asleep.”

• Static bled into the demons voice at an alarming rate as you let out a half jolt at the shift in mood, falling off the couch with a yelp in your wake

• You took a moment to swipe at your face wildly before blanching at Alastor towering over you nervously

• “Uh, my bad?”

• Alastor’s smile strained itself so thin, you thought it would split his face in half

• “Glad to know I’m keeping you entertained.” He all but laughed happily. But the white knuckled grip on his microphone told you otherwise

• You recall Charlie telling you something about ignorance being one of Alastor’s least favorite things. Especially when it came to his little spectacles

• “Maybe we’ve had enough peer feedback for today—“ Vaggie cut in cautiously

• “I concur.” Came your quick agreement

• You made sure to avoid Alastor for a few days after that

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lunahearts · 5 months

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Soooo I read all of Dungeon Meshi in this past week and I have many thoughts bouncing around in my brain and I think the only thing to do with them is some AGGRESSIVELY CLOSE READING of a scene I wanted to come back to and try to understand better.

So: I want to talk about chapter 28

This entire section of the story is something I feel like I am going to want to come back to a lot, because its such a transitional time and I feel like there are a lot of themes/ideas that I wasn't fully aware of during my first reading, and stuff I missed because of that.

One of the biggest things I have been turning over in my head is... hey, what was UP with the Marcille/Falin bath scene? Maybe it was because I was already primed to pay attention to stuff with them going into the story, or because I had already seen a couple of panels out of context. In any case, it really kind of stuck out to me as being very short but also VERY intense, while also being... hard for me to define? Some part of the nature of the intensity felt like it was going over my head.

I wasn't sure that revisiting it would help with this right away, but to my surprise, it actually WAS a lot easier for me to follow and understand when I went back to it. So I want to just do a close reading of That Scene and some other parts of the chapter & context around it all, because I think it offers insight into Falin & her relationships, and what purpose this chapter serves within the story as a whole.

So first of all, I think it's interesting that the scene starts with Marcille bathing Falin.

It feels very caring in a more platonic, less charged way then what will follow.

Marcille goes from this caretaker mode to joining Falin in the bath, and then of course we get the first of The Panels

(as a small note, I only noticed when revisiting that Marcille is using the rest of her Kelpie soap in the bath. Isn't that just the most heartwrenching little detail. Augh)

Anyway, one of the first things I thought was interesting going back to this is how much it reminded me of the very different sort of intimacy that came just before it - when Laios and Marcille assembled Falin's bones.

This is such a beautiful and intimate sequence, and something about Marcille examining Falin, whole, after the fact... I can't imagine there are not some echoes of those bones in Marcille's mind. The action seems more startling/intense for Falin at first, and maybe part of that is because Marcille has already experienced this level of intimacy with Falin's body in a way Falin herself wasn't a part of.

This panel in particular I think is a summation of the difference in the experience for them. This looks like... near orgasmic for Falin tbh, and Marcille is very focused on the actual like practical part of what she's doing, seemingly completely unaware of the Effect she is having on Falin.

The whole short sequence is focused on this intimacy that Marcille initiated seemingly without fully being aware of what she was actually doing. And once Marcille is satisfied, she is also the one that ends it, sitting back in the bath and moving out of Falin's proximity. All on her own terms, and for her own ends.

HOWEVER... Falin doesn't just let things go.

Instead, she returns Marcille's attention. First, by asking after her wellbeing:

Marcille, of course, deflects (there will be a lot of that in this scene).

But Falin doesn't let it go.

Falin is not a confrontational person. She likes to keep the peace. In this context, and in context of the way that Marcille was the one to come into Falin's space initially, the way that Marcille controlled the initial intimacy... this is striking. I genuinely think that these three panels might convey one of the most assertive actions Falin (as herself) takes in the entire story. One of the only things that outdoes it is the fucking INCITING INCIDENT OF THE WHOLE STORY.

I'd also like to point out here that this action of Falin's also parallels her resurrection by Marcille & Laios. It's is also a forbidden magical action done to save someone(s) she loves, and its something she does TO them, that they are not fully aware/able to react to until its done.

Anyway, back to the bath scene. Falin is taking action here and asserting herself. And how does Marcille react?

She flips out!! She rejects it! She tells Falin that she isn't supposed to be acting like that.

It's a very distancing response from Marcille, and also one that puts her back in that caretaker mode from the start of the scene. She also puts even more distance between herself and Falin by sinking into the water.

Falin doesn't give up though! She continues to assert herself. She's okay, she is allowed to chose to do this.

And Marcille continues to push her away. It looks to me like she only starts to relax a little once she fits Falin into a role she can better define and control. You're a patient, you're recovering, I understand this fact and you don't. Let me take care of you.

But, for a third time, Falin pushes back.

I don't think it’s coincidence that this is where she opens her eyes. She asks directly about the thing that they have both been dancing around:

The resurrection spell. The fact that Falin KNOWS about this, at least in part, recontextualizes the quiet battle for control between the two them. They both know at least some part of the truth. Marcille wants nothing else then to ignore it. Falin wants to be able to talk about it. Marcille's blatant refusal to give her those answers, I think, is what keeps them out of sync - intimate only ever in one direction at a time, never fully together.

And of course, even when directly confronted, Marcille refuses to engage with the truth.

This moment being on the bottom of the page is notable too. There's a beat here. The last panel holds on Falin's face. The reader reaches the bottom of the page, and they are held here for a beat as well, with Falin. It's not quite a rejection yet. What Marcille says isn't directly an answer to Falin's question, but it is a response. A valid one, even! Falin wasn't just asking the question after all, but struggling with guilt that Marcille has every reason to want to reject.

But then you move on the next page, and...

Marcille isn't actually addressing the question at all, not directly. She's deflecting, again. Oh we had a ~difficult time~, there were a lot of "tough situations." Even though she and Falin both know about the resurrection, and Falin has made it clear that she wants to talk about it, Marcille pushes away from the actual topic. She keeps things broad and indirect.

She offers the smallest gesture to Falin - nothing more than a whisper of 'don't worry about it I won't get in trouble' (even though Falin's concern was never just about Marcille getting in trouble).

Marcille then continues to deflect even further, completely changing the subject onto clothes and frog adventures, which seems to distract Falin as well, as she finally gives up on pushing.

And that's where the scene ends! Marcille pushes into Falin's space (without fully realizing), and Falin pushes back. She tries three times to get Marcille to acknowledge her wants, and three times Marcille rejects her, though she does eventually convey some truth. She is honest in her belief that Falin doesn't need to feel guilty, and that things will all work out, even as she continues to deflect the rest of the question. Falin finally accepts that, the topic of conversation changes, and we move on.

But there is a little bit more that happens between them. Towards the end of the chapter, they have this little 'oh no we have to share a bed' situation. Classic stuff.

And Falin seems to realize that the context of this is kinda different now then it was when they were in the magic academy. She's not a kid any more, and they just had those intimate moments in the bath. There's a new tension between them, or one that new at least to the bed sharing of it all.

And in this respect, too Marcille pulls away from what Falin is trying to say. She tries to frame Falin as a kid, tries to insist that nothing is different.

When I first got to this part, it honestly felt... a little uncomfortable? After the bath scene, it is really weird to move into a new intimate situation with Marcille explicitly treating Falin as a kid.

What I have realized in coming back to this scene, though, is how much I think its meant to feel uncomfortable. Throughout the chapter, Marcille's responses to Falin become increasingly patronizing. By letting some of that conflict between them resolve at the end of the first scene, the chapter seems to let things rest, and lets you set it out of your mind.

Then, when the same type of conflict comes back at the end of the chapter, Marcille is even more blatantly treating Falin like a kid, and the unfairness of it hits even stronger. They are both adults, and Falin deserves the truth. After 27 chapters from the perspective of Laios, Marcille, and the others in the group, this progression lets you feel things from Falin's perspective. It's supposed to feel uncomfortable because it IS uncomfortable for Falin, the way no one will quite tell her the truth.

After all, Marcille isn't the only one to do this kind of deflecting when Falin tries to ask about what happened. Laios has a similar response, right down to the 'treating her a bit like a kid' part.

Even more importantly, this final conversation of the chapter reveals one last layer in the knowledge/power imbalance between Falin and the rest of the party: she doesn't actually remember sacrificing herself and teleporting them out.

As I mentioned before, that action was one of the most assertive things we see Falin do in the story, and she doesn't even get to keep that for herself. Instead of being her action, her choice, it becomes yet another thing that the others know more about than her.

I think that's part of why there is such an air of melancholy to this hug they share on the next page

Obviously, obviously, there are so many emotions here for Laios and I don't think its all meant to be viewed as a negative thing, or that he or Marcille are being completely unreasonable. They've been through a lot, and what's more, they think they have time now. So much more time then they actually will have. Time to explain, to open up, to let Falin return to the group in full - as a teammate and not just as someone to be cared for and protected.

But they don't get time. And this relenting by Falin, this "I won't do it again," it's not something that feels triumphant. It's an attempt to comfort them, more a prayer than a promise. As if she is trying to exorcise a spirit. As if she is capable of promising that death won't come, eventually. It's what Laios needs, not what she wants.

That's the real tragedy of the chapter, I think. It's the one time, in the midst of everything, that they have the chance to give Falin what she wants - and they don't do it.

But I do think they realize that, and I think that this failure is a core part of their journey. It's another bittersweet taste to add to the mix - all the missed chances in this chapter to connect, amidst the moments of genuine peace they do get throughout it.

As Laios puts it later...

If Falin hadn't been eaten by the dragon, and perhaps if they hadn't failed her here, they never would have had the adventure that they got to share.

(or, perhaps more tactfully: in life & chapter 28, there are both good times and bad. Thanks, Chilchuk)

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #falin touden #marcille donato #laios touden #dunmeshi analysis #dungeon meshi spoilers

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dycefic · 1 year

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Tom Saves The World

Everyone knows that it’s super-heroes who save the world. They fight the aliens, or the monsters, or the bad guys. And mostly, that’s true.

But not always.

I’m a psychic. The thing is, my range isn’t that great. I don’t have much detail more than about 36 hours out, 48 for something really big. I’d had a nebulous sort of bad feeling for about a week before this one finally hit, and it was big. Something very tough and very supernatural was going to come up out of the harbor of Nova Roma, and the death-toll was going to be high. Crazy high.

I did all I could. I told the Unaligned Supers Job Placement Agency, and they put the word out to everyone on both sides of the Line. The Henchman’s Union don’t like natural disasters any more than anyone else, and they’re often quite helpful against eldritch horrors and stuff like that. Things that don’t hire henchmen and ruin the property values.

The trouble was, nobody big was around. The only really big team of heavy hitters on the West Coast were away dealing with some sort of doomsday cult - I never was clear on what that was about - and Guarde and Dog Fox were out of touch and even Mx Frantique was out of town at someone’s wedding. It was going to happen in less than two days and we couldn’t find anyone to help and I was seriously considering calling in some kind of bomb threat or something to get people away from the docks, at least.

And then, about eighteen hours out, it just… went away.

Which never, ever happens.

My powers might be short range, but they’re reliable. I don’t get stuff wrong, and I hadn’t been able to find any way to prevent what was going to happen, or even been able to identify anyone who could. But someone did. Someone had done something to stop the threat, something that happened literally while I was opening my car door. When I reached for the handle, thousands of people were going to die. By the time the door was open, there was no threat at all.

At first I thought it must have been a ranged thing. Like, whatever I’d been seeing (all those teeth, I saw them in nightmares for months after) had been distracted by something tasty on its way here and gotten off track, that it’d come up somewhere up or down the coast. My range isn’t that big, either. Anything outside about thirty miles might as well be on Mars for all I know about it. So we kept a watch out, and warned the chapters of the Union and the Agency in other cities.

But nothing happened. Nothing at all. I couldn’t explain it, and I was really unpopular for a while. Supers do NOT like people who cry wolf. There’s enough freaky shit we have to deal with without someone panicking everyone with a dire prophecy that fizzles out.

Thank all the gods that Tunny showed up. Nobody’s really sure what Tunny actually is - sentient fish creature, some kind of really mutated human, an alien, or what. She changes her story a lot. But she’s pretty friendly, especially for a twenty-foot-long horror-movie-mermaid-thing with four arms, so when she came into harbor to pick up some supplies a guy from the Agency went out to tell her what I’d seen. I’d gotten a wharf and dock number, so she went down to check.

I don’t think anyone had ever seen Tunny scared before. Her English wasn’t good enough to really explain what she’d found hibernating down there, but it was something very old and very powerful and very dangerous, and if it’d been woken up my vision would just have been the start of the crisis.

She rounded up a bunch of whales to help her move it, once she was sure it hadn’t been agitated and wasn’t likely to rouse if moved carefully. They towed it out before dawn, not wanting to scare the civilians, and when I saw the footage from the helicopter the Union sent up, when I saw how big the swell was, how many whales were pulling, I swear I nearly crapped myself. No wonder I’d been getting hints a week in advance. Somehow we dumbass humans had built a whole fucking city almost on top of some kind of Ancient Old… THING, and eroded the sea-bottom until it was exposed, and if someone hadn’t done whatever it was we’d all have been dead long before Tunny arrived. And not just all as in ‘all of Nova Roma’, it could have taken out half of the continent... or all of it.

It took me years to find out what happened. YEARS. It turned into a kind of hobby, tracking everything that might possibly have come into contact with Wharf 38 on that particular day.

And what I found, eventually, was a city employee named Thomas Briggs.

I’d found out early on that 38 wasn’t in good repair. Not that bad, but not great. It was old, things were getting a bit saggy in a few places, but there’d been no sign that anything was likely to fall off on the day. It had sat there for a couple of years after the crisis that never happened,, doing its job without problems then been rebuilt without any drama at all.

Entirely, completely, and totally because of Thomas Briggs.

The story, when I finally pieced it together, went like this.

There’d been some project or other to build some sort of high-budget science project over on the other side of the harbor, hanging it off’ve Pier 8, the furthest out on that side. Something about tracking sea-life or ships or something. My conversational English is near perfect, I’ve been here for years, but I don’t speak science nerd in ANY language. It’d all been approved, some university was covering most of the cost, it was all gonna be fine. And it was gonna be over on 8 because that side of the harbor is the shallow end. It’s where the sailboats go. All the big stuff that would block visual sensors and deafen the thing with engine noise was over in the thirties, in the real deep water.

They were almost ready to install the thing when a bunch of rich dudes suddenly got their panties in a bunch over having a big sciency tower thing ruining the view from their yachts, and tried to get it moved.

To, and I’m sure you guessed this, Wharf 38.

Which was completely insane. It wouldn’t be able to do its job over there, it’d be way more in the way, and (although they couldn’t have known it) the installation would definitely have woken up the Thing sleeping by the wharf and we all would have died. But rich dudes with yachts don’t care about that stuff. They’d bitched out and bribed up their friends on the city council, and those friends had done their thing, and the scientists had been left in the dark, and it’d almost gone through. They’d figured to install it right away, so that when the science guys found out it’d be too late and they’d either have to pay a lot to move it or just use it where it was.

Enter Thomas Briggs.

Mr Briggs, Tom to his friends, didn’t give a crap about the yachts or the science. He was a senior money guy for the commercial wharfs, the one who figured out things like how much money they’d take in in a quarter, and what the repair budget should be, stuff like that. He found out about this thing two days before the disaster would have happened, and sat down and did the math.

Then he sent out an email to the guys trying to push this through, and he ripped into them like they’d threatened to knife his mother. I got my hands on that email, and I didn’t understand a lot of it any more than the council guys would have. It was ALL numbers. But at the top he wrote it out in plain English. Pier 8 was new, and rated to handle the weight of the thingy. Wharf 38 was going to be scrapped in a few years, and it was NOT rated for that kind of structure. Pier 8 had plenty of room around it. Wharf 38 was already a tight fit for the big commercial ships, and adding a structure sticking out on one side would block off at least half of the wharf to those ships completely.

Bottom line, putting the thing on Wharf 38 would cost the city hundreds of thousands of dollars more per year than putting it on 8, AND the city would have to eat the cost if 38 collapsed under it which it could easily do, AND the city would have to pay to move it in a couple of years anyway when 38 was due to be rebuilt.

And he cc-ed every important person he had an email address for, including the mayor, the anti-corruption people, and several reporters.

He must have sent that email right when I was opening my car door.

The whole plan collapsed right there, and some people got fired. There was no news story because the whole plan got killed before the reporters even got to the right office. The installation was started on Wharf 8 a few weeks later and I never connected it to a commercial wharf on the other side of the harbor.

One email, and a man who I never could have located in time, a man who had no powers at all, a man who was just conscientiously doing his job looking after the city’s money saved the city, and the continent, and maybe even the world.

Who could have predicted that? Not me, that’s for damn sure.

I can’t deny that I went home and got drunk off my ass that night. Just thinking about how close that had been made my hands shake. One man. One honest man who’d done the math.

I put the word out, once the hangover wore off. What had happened. That Thomas Briggs was the reason we were all alive and everyone better make his life real nice from now on, because he’d done what none of us could do and nobody but the supers would ever even know it.

He’s got a lot of luck coming to him, I can tell you. We don’t forget debts like that.

And I knew that’d freak him out, because honest men don’t like it when people start doing them a lot of favors for no apparent reason, so I tracked him down at the little bar where he likes to have a quiet beer on Friday nights before he goes home. Hell, I was the one who’d gone through it all, back then. I should get to tell him.

I sat down beside him at the bar and looked at him. I saw a thin, small, balding man who looked like he worried too much and didn’t get enough sleep, with lines around his eyes. Yeah, he looked like a man who’d do the math. “Thomas Briggs?”

He blinked at me through his glasses. “Yes? Do I know you?”

“No, you don’t. My name’s Barkhado Omar, and I’ve been looking for you for a long time.” I offered him my hand and he shook it, still looking confused. Which was fair, ‘cause I doubt a lot of seven foot tall Somali women came up to him in bars even when he was young. He’s got to be close to retirement now.

He frowned. “Looking for me? Why?”

I smiled at him. “Tom, let me buy you a drink and tell you about the day you saved the world.”

It’s usually us who save the city, or the world. We have all the intel, all the advantages, all the powers.

But sometimes it’s not. Sometimes it’s someone like Tom Briggs, doing the right thing at the right time and never knowing that he changed the course of history.

Wild, huh?

This story is a direct result of me and my ex chatting about how different the entire Marvel Universe would have been if Jean’s first ‘resurrection’ - being found in a life pod under a wharf, IIRC - had happened at like... any other time. Earlier. Later. It would have changed SO MUCH.

And we speculated about how it could happen, how someone just puttering around in middle management might have unknowingly saved countless lives, prevented Madelyne’s corruption, the legacy virus, all of it, just by postponing that particular set of repairs a bit longer.... and I couldn’t resist writing a version of the story in which Tom does, in fact, save the world.

#short fiction #dyce's supers universe #comics inspired #sometimes something just goes right #horseshoe repair

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