wip wednesday i made it wooooooo
this is the only even remotely coherent section of the all human actors au that has been making me cry tears of blood. yes, there is still a bracket. no, i didn't even try to figure it out. i am TIRED.
it's mildly raunchy crack. like pg-13, probs? idk.
In the car on the way home, Klaus made an ill-considered midnight call to his sister, given that Rebekah was three hours ahead in New York City, where she’d been shooting a sit-com about struggling models for the past month. She probably would have been less alright with it if Klaus hadn’t spent the whole call whining about how he’d met the girl he was going to marry, but she thought he was a loser. He woke up the next afternoon to cottonmouth, a deeper sense of foreboding than usual, and about fifty text messages, first from Rebekah, and then from the group chat with the rest of his siblings, deservedly ripping the shit out of Klaus.
The third time he met Caroline was at an industry do, this time much less a party than a press event. [SUPER POPULAR FILM FRANCHISE] hadn’t come out yet, but his Times profile had, which was simultaneously the most horrifying portrait and the most accurate. He’d been giving a lot of thought to the person he was versus the person he wanted to be, and it was all weighing on him. So, when he saw Caroline, his first impulse probably shouldn’t have been that this was his chance. If he’d been thinking more clearly, he probably would have realized that he wasn’t in the best headspace.
“Bekah,” he breathed to his sister, because of course Rebekah was there. Rebekah had been witness to every crushing defeat of Klaus’s life. “She’s here.”
And because Rebekah was a bloodhound for Klaus’s humiliation, she immediately picked up what Klaus was putting down. “Who? The girl you’re going to marry? Where?”
Klaus surreptitiously pointed out where Caroline was standing in a cluster with a few other women, but he was already on the move by the time Rebekah was hissing, “Oh, fuck! Wait, Nik. Goddammit.”
And the thing was, Klaus was a bit foolish. He knew this. He wasn’t unintelligent, but outside of his career, he’d never been known for making well-reasoned decisions. He was impulsive, and while he’d shaken off much of the resentment and aimless rage of his late teens and early twenties, his temper still fueled his choices at times. He wanted to change, was actively trying with some measure of success, but it was an ongoing process. He was all the way across the room before he realized Caroline was surrounded by a veritable coven of women he didn’t want to attempt to flirt in front of. One of the Petrova quadruplets—either Amara or Elena, given that he knew Katerina and knew Tatia—Bonnie-fucking-Bennett, who was flawlessly styled and probably still had no idea who he was, and Hayley Marshall, who had spent years watching Klaus try to make removing his shirt while wearing elf ear prosthetics sexy for MTV and getting into on-set fistfights with Kai Parker for being a smug little fuck who couldn’t be bothered to show up for his call times. So, Klaus was stuck without any chance of a classy retreat.
Regardless, he managed to collect a cheek kiss from Hayley, finally introduced himself to Bonnie, did the awkward yes, our siblings are fucking nod with confirmed-to-be-Elena, and greeted Caroline for a socially appropriate amount of time. It broke down when he had to make a conscious effort not to focus the entirety of his attention on her, with middling success, if Rebekah’s almost silent snickering and Hayley’s bemusement were anything to go by. But after a few minutes, he was, if not relaxed, at least doing a reasonable facsimile of charming and was a bit blindsided when Lorenzo St. John seemed to materialize out of nowhere to press a glass of white wine into Caroline’s hand and wrap a proprietary arm around her waist. Klaus had never met him before, though being in separate wings of the same franchise allowed for a very few degrees of separation, but Klaus couldn’t blame the man when he spent the entirety of their introduction and subsequent conversation watching Caroline with a cross between adoration and hunger so intense that Klaus felt uncomfortable witnessing it.
Eventually, Elena was pulled away by a director with more industry pull than was necessarily warranted. Hayley excused herself to hit the bar again, and Klaus knew her well enough to interpret her shrug and half-smile as better luck next time, pal. Finally, he made up a barely sensical excuse about not having mingled enough and dragged Rebekah away, who parted from Caroline with a hug and farewell that spoke of more familiarity than he’d been aware of.
“Well,” Rebekah said, like the unsympathetic twat she was, “I do believe she’s the girl he’s going to marry, too.”
Klaus pointed a finger at Rebekah, as disgruntled as ever that his younger sister had inherited both their mother’s sweet, lovely face and her innate, bloody-minded sadism. Klaus might have been taller and bulkier, but the extra mercilessness made the difference for Rebekah whenever they’d brawled over snacks, or the remote, or one of her useless, cockwomble boyfriends.
“You knew!” he hissed. “You knew I was going to make a fool out of myself!”
“Hey, there’s no stopping you when you’re on a mission to embarrass yourself. It’s one of your more endearing qualities. And you never said who she was.” Rebekah shrugged. “She’s on my show. Just started filming last month. I don’t know her very well, but I knew she had a boyfriend doing some off-Broadway, avant-garde bullshit with those Augustine lunatics.”
Klaus sighed and slumped a little bit. Rebekah patted him on the shoulder in their family’s typical manner of reluctant, suspicious affection and wandered off to find Stefan, who tended to spend these things hiding behind a pillar, or a large plant, or on one memorable occasion, a standee of himself, and drinking with the quiet desperation of an introvert who might have to talk to people he didn’t know.
The last Klaus saw of Caroline, Enzo was nuzzled into her temple, saying something for only her to hear. Her head was thrown back, laughing, and she looked like everything Klaus had ever wanted.
(But was terrified he’d never find.)
Life went on. Klaus’s world changed dramatically when [SUPER POPULAR FRANCHISE MOVIE] was a hit on an unexpected scale. The box office returns were obscene, and because Klaus got in on the ground floor and his agent was great at her job, he suddenly had more money, and far more fame, than he knew what to do with. But with that came the freedom to do the projects he really wanted to do. Really cared about. So, he was busy. And he was still trying to be better, be the person he wanted to be, not the person it was easy to be.
But he also had too many first dates and hardly any second ones, before he and Aurora decided to get back together for the fourth time. Predictably, it blew up in a final, spectacular way when Klaus had to spend an obscene amount of time in transit, traveling from his shooting location in Hungary to hers in Vancouver and back, just to find out she was fucking around on him again. The thing about Aurora was that she never overtly cheated, because there was always a nebulousness about where he fit into her life that manifested in her casually dating other men without calling it dating. It had been the perfect arrangement for him when he was twenty-three and more cheekbones than brains, but that wasn’t who Klaus wanted to be anymore.
He tried to take a step back after that, but the next time he was in L.A., he slept with a stylist he’d worked with a few times before. Then, he went back to London for his thirtieth birthday, got ratarsed on celebratory Nebbiolo with his best mate from RADA, and had an accidental threesome with Lucien and his fiancé. This resulted in a hungover call to Freya the next morning that was an unflattering shade of gay panic to his only queer sibling—aside from Henrik, who didn’t deserve to be subjected to Klaus’s post-coital regrets—over being a newly thirty-year-old celebrity who tried butt stuff for the first time and didn’t hate it. Freya was a good enough sister that she didn’t hold it against Klaus, but also enough his sibling that she nearly choked to death on her tea, laughing, and crisply informed him that even primarily straight men had prostates.
So, it’s not like he was pining. He wasn’t. But there was a certain level of wistfulness on the rare occasion when he did think of Caroline, which he tried not to do very often, given that he was certain the next time he heard anything about her, it would be because she was engaged to an increasingly renowned British actor with what Klaus could only hope would someday be a hairline that receded more than his own.
(Except it wasn't.)
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my campaign hiatus has gone on for too long so to cope ive combined my interests at their maximum potency and had some dnd-strawhats thoughts
thoughts in depth under read more... :)!
this is SO self indulgent. their designs literally did not change. but i am a firm believer that dnd doesnt have to be european high fantasy. and also one piece literally IS fantasy. no changes are necessary to fit into dnd. ive already imagined plenty of campaign/oneshot ideas inspired by one piece. so this was basically just an exercise of trying to replicate their canon abilities in dnd 5e as much as possible without totally homebrewing everything. well. aside from luffy. you just cant take away or change his stretching.
LUFFY: (human monk. drunken master subclass. outlander)
the only plain human of the crew to balance out with the fact that he still has rubber powers. obviously a monk. but drunken master subclass specifically because i think the flavor(not the fact that its about being a drunkard) and abilities both fit him really well. this line in the subclass' flavortext especially fits him: "A drunken master often enjoys playing the fool to bring gladness to the despondent or to demonstrate humility to the arrogant, but when battle is joined, the drunken master can be a maddening, masterful foe."
ZORO: (tiefling fighter. samurai subclass. bounty hunter)
a fighter with the samurai subclass is so very incredibly obvious... but i actually had a lot of fun geeking out while comparing the abilities to what he can do in canon; Fighting Spirit, Rapid Strike, and Strength Before Death especially! tiefling is also pretty on the nose for his demon pirate hunter shtick and asura form, but i thought he'd be really human-passing for a tiefling and theorized about his tail getting cut off at some point or another before joining the strawhats. initially wasnt gonna give him a feat, but i gave sanji a feat so i thought itd be unfair to not give him one as well, so sentinel fits the bill pretty well i think!
NAMI: (tabaxi rogue. arcane trickster subclass. criminal)
cat burglar -> full grown literal humanoid cat. this one is INCREDIBLY self indulgent... i love... cats... theres nothing deeper to this and no other reasoning. i took cat burglar and ran with it. can you tell that i love izutsumi dungeon meshi? rogue for the aforementioned burglar-ing as well, and the arcane trickster subclass for when she picks up climatact! the mage hand will be very useful for her pickpocketing. in the future as she levels up with timeskip, i can totally see her multiclassing into wizard as well! weather wizard!
USOPP: (lightfoot halfling artificer. artillerist subclass. urchin)
I HAD SO MUCH FUN THINKING ABOUT HIS CHARACTER SHEET. halfling's Naturally Stealthy ability lets him hide behind his crewmates since theyre (almost) all bigger than him, so its perfect for hiding behind zoro or sanji all the time. Lucky is also perfect for him, and I think Brave fits pretty well too when he puts on the sogeking mask. artillerist artificer is also very fun! tinkering and making magic items for his crew, and i think Eldritch Canon or Arcane Firearm could both be easily reflavored as kabuto or any of his inventions. for emphasizing his sniper-ness, the spell sniper feat was also necessary. i think hes my favorite of all the concepts. big ears and long nose combo is so cute to me.
SANJI: (half-elf monk. drunken master subclass. guild artisan (cook!))
race was mostly based on vibes i wont lie. squints. and that vinsmoke balogna or whatever too ig. but mostly vibes. along with the idea that i think a dwarf zeff raising him would be really funny and cute. monk is also obvious, and same subclass as luffy for mostly the same reasons. though the flavor fits him much less, i think the abilities still fit him perfectly, and this blurb specifically; "Your martial arts technique mixes combat training with the precision of a dancer." i really wanted to give him a different subclass from luffy, but i dislike all the other monk subclasses a lot and i found none of them fit him as well anyways, so to try and give them SOME differences, i gave him the crusher feat.
CHOPPER: (awakened deer(shifter statblock) cleric. life subclass. hermit)
this ones definitely a mouthful im sorry. awakened deer for obvious reasons, but due to magic instead of devil fruit stuff. when i was struggling with his race, i looked a lot at shifter because of his forms, but it occurred to me that itd be super cool if he could shift between all of the different shifter options instead of being stuck with just one to replicate his rumble balls. something like heavy point/guard point=beasthide, horn point/arm point(?maybe?)=longtooth, walk point/jumping point=swiftstride, and brain point=wildhunt. hed definitely need some kind of nerf though to balance out that homebrew... and cleric for class. duh.
ROBIN: (high elf wizard. order of scribes subclass. criminal)
robin is definitely the one i struggled the most with just because of her class. elf came pretty easily- shes very elegant and i think shed look cute with super long ears- and i landed on high elf instead of wood elf for the int-based abilities. i was really on the fence between sorcerer and wizard for her because i knew shed be a full spellcaster, but i didnt feel that any of the subclasses really fit her. i ended up going with wizard for order of the scribes since it focuses on texts and knowing everything. but also because robin with a flying talking sentient book would be crazy cool. it could also be similar to how she spawns mouths and eyes places to talk to or watch people. my "fuck it, why not. this would be rad. its my house" mindset kicked in with her i will admit. also the One with the Word ability made me cackle out loud when i read it. thats the funniest ability ever. anyways, i cant really think of a way to replicate her powers, but maybe we could just reflavor a bunch of spells to be her limbs or clutch; hold person, maximillian's earthen grasp, or evard's black tentacles. thatd probably work okay, and theres a handful of spells to replicate her ability to spawn eyes or mouths. unrelated, but i imagine nico olvia to be a drow. why? her hair is white. i am a simple man!
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wanna sit on nerd miguel’s face while i use my phone to snap other guys that’s my little chair fr😔😻
this just changed the trajectory of my life in a way you cannot understand.
cw: slight d/s dynamics, sending nudes, munch miguel makes an appearance once more, bro literally FEASTS, new character yippee (v minor), brief choking (more like a neck squeeze tbh), praise, squirting LOL, miguel gets kicked out again 😔 reader catching feelings?? we may never know. semi proofread today i felt nice. this is a longer one than usual, so enjoy!
“stop fuckin’ squirming down there and eat me out properly,” you say, looking down at miguel. his eyes are hazy and hooded, his glasses somewhere on the bed, his brown eyes clear as day. you grip his head by his hair and position him to where his nose brushes above your clit, and you moan at the feeling. “l-like that, okay miguel? be good for mommy.”
miguel takes heed of your instructions and begins to lick, suck, and thrust up into your wetness, making it hard for you to maintain something relative to your composure. in the throes of miguel’s mouth work, your phone screen, next to miguel’s head, lights up with a snapchat notification from none other than the star quarterback of your school, peter parker. you bite the corner of your lip, mouth pulling up in a smile at an idea. you grab your phone and open it to snapchat, seeing peters name at the top of your snap list. you open his snap and it’s a picture of him shirtless, abs on display, his happy trail just peeking over the band of his pants. his snap is captioned with text reading ‘wyd?’
you prop your camera up, angling it enough that miguel’s face and your pussy are out of frame. miguel stops for a moment to ask what you’re doing, but before he can get a word in you speak up, “if you stop, this will be the last time i ever let you touch me. got it? keep fucking going.” and wordless, miguel does as he’s told, going back to eating you but with a new energy this time. it catches you off guard a bit, and you let out a light f-fuck in response, but you don’t let it derail you from answering peter back.
peter. you and him have had.. complicated history to say the least. since high school, the two of you ran in the same social circles, with him being on your high school football team and you, a cheerleader. a true status quo. the two of you had ended up attending the same underaged parties, hooking up and even going steady for some time, until the blonde busty thing known as gwen stacy walked into your high school in sophomore year and made her claim on your then boyfriend. you figured it out after you walked in on them under the bleachers post-game, the spot where you habitually got on your knees to congratulate peter for his win. you stayed with him after a profuse apology and intense “i’m sorry” fuck session, to your dismay, but broke up with him in the beginning of your senior year. now, you two fuck from time to time, scratching an itch when you have it.
you look back at the tease of a photo on your phone, your tits spilling out your plunge neck crop top and your abdomen cutting off right above your pubic area, your pink thong still visible coming up the sides of your hips. you feel miguel plunge his tongue into you, causing you to fall forward, steadying yourself with one hand, phone in the other. “keep this up and i’m gonna squirt on you, but i bet you’re into that huh?” you laugh out a little, miguel moaning into you in response. you try not to get distracted and caption your snap to peter ‘nothing really’ and press send.
immediately, you see that he opens it and he replies just as fast, this time the photo of him in grey sweats with a visible tent, layer out on his bed. the caption attached, ‘wanna turn your nothing to a something? ;)’ and you roll your eyes. you move to answer him with another midriff picture, but you change your mind. “hey, look at me dweeb,” you say, turning the camera so that it’s capturing the angle of miguel’s mouth on your pussy, covered in spit and your juices. he looks up and sees the camera of your phone pointed down towards him and he goes red in the face and tight lipped. “remember what i told you about stopping,” you remind him, and he maintains eye contact with the camera as he goes back to lick a strip up your pussy, from your leaking hole to your clit. you move your unoccupied hand to his face, palm to his cheek as you slowly caress him with your thumb. “that’s a good boy.”
you move your hand from his cheek, trailing softly down to his strong neck and you wrap your hand around his neck and squeeze. at the pressure he lets out a groan, his hands moving to grip your thighs tighter to his face. “fuck miguel, you’re making mommy so happy right now- ah! fuck, just like that. keep doing that, o-okay?” you moan out. he says nothing, his eyes, still maintaining contact with the camera, clouded with lust, answering for him.
you snap a picture, turned on at the lewdness of it. it’s your pussy on miguel’s face, pink panties pushed to the side as his mouth is sucking on your clit, his hands gripping the fat of your thighs, and your hand around his neck at the same time. you make quick work to save the photo and caption it ‘busy, sorry’, feeling your orgasm approach. you press send and drop your phone, ignoring the back to back buzzing, probably of peters reply to your salacious snap.
a steady heat begins to boil in the pit of your stomach, and you keen forwards, your hand leaving miguel’s neck to grip the white sheets on your bed. “i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna-“ and with that, you feel the pleasure within you tighten then burst, like a damn breaking way, and you begin to tremble as miguel continues his work down on you. the overstimulation begins to hit you, and you feel a spurt of liquid leave your body and miguel groan and suck. “oh my god,” you heave out, “st-stop, no more.”
miguel places a final kiss to your mound as he moves to lift your limp hips for you. he feels sheepish how, his sweater and mouth drenched with your liquids. he wipes his lips and makes way to speak to your still firm on the bed. “are- are you okay?”
you say nothing, grab the nearest pillow you have, and throw it at him. miguel dodges and understands that means get the fuck out.
after collecting yourself, your body still spent and sheets still wet, you roll over on your back and grab your phone to look at what peter replied to you. you open his snap, and laugh a little at his responses.
peter 🚮
| is that fucking o’hara..?
| you’re fucking with me???
| fucking whore
| you sleep with nerds now??
you make way to reply to peter one more time, opening the camera and taking a picture of the wet bedsheets, caption it ‘nerds that can make me cum? yeah’ and unadd him after.
you finally haul yourself up to change your sheets when you see miguel’s glasses on your bed. you grab them and put them on your nightstand, feeling heat rush through your blood to your face, thinking of him and the mess he made of you.
fucking dweeb.
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