#I'd win by sheer force of will

[reidishh]

I'm sitting like a potato on my couch, eating hot cheetos, and watching Physical 100 while procrastinating my workout . I swear on my life I could win the whole competition.

#the irony is not lost on me #but istg #I'd win by sheer force of will #physical 100 #ari.talks

[aemoglobin]

people are being mean to my kpop idol on the internet and it's taking everything i have in me not to start shit with them

#they'd win by sheer force of numbers and that's it basically #like i'd definitely win the fight but lose the war you know?? #rose idol chatter #holland can't take a fucking BREATH without getting shit for it

[bulkingjourney]

"Bulking Up for the Game" -Pt 1

Tom had always been the star player of the high school football team, known for his incredible agility, lightning speed, and pinpoint precision on the field. But his coach, Coach Williams, had something different in mind for him. Coach Williams believed that to reach the next level, Tom needed to bulk up – not just in terms of raw strength, but also in sheer size. He wanted Tom to become a powerhouse, a near-unstoppable force on the field. At the time, Tom weighed in at a lean and wiry 185 pounds, and he had no idea just how transformative his journey was about to become.

The turning point occurred one day after practice when Coach Williams called Tom into his office. As Tom took a seat, Coach Williams leaned in and said, "Tom, you're already the best player on this team, but I see even more potential in you. We need you to bulk up, and I mean really bulk up – a dirty bulk."

Tom was taken aback by the request. He had never considered gaining weight in such a manner before. But he trusted Coach Williams, knowing that he had a reputation for turning promising players into legends. Coach Williams introduced Tom to a specialized training and nutrition program tailored to promote muscle gain. This program involved high-calorie meals, a variety of protein shakes, and grueling workouts that pushed Tom to his limits.

As weeks turned into months, Tom could see and feel the changes in his body. Muscles rippled and expanded across his frame, turning him into a football powerhouse. His teammates were in awe of his growing strength and size, and they could see his transformation taking shape.

However, there was one change that surprised Tom the most – his belly. As his muscle mass increased, so did his waistline. His once flat stomach started to push outward, forming a burgeoning belly. Initially, Tom was concerned about this development, but Coach Williams assured him it was all part of the plan. "That belly will give you the added leverage you need on the field," Coach Williams explained.

Tom embraced the process, even as he had to gradually upgrade his uniform. He had started with a medium-sized jersey, but as his muscles swelled, he progressed to a large, and then an extra-large. By the end of his transformation, he was wearing a 2XL jersey that barely contained his muscular frame.

As the big game approached, Tom's confidence was at an all-time high. He had become a dominant force to be reckoned with – a harmonious blend of strength, speed, and even unexpected agility for a player of his size. His belly, once an area of concern, had now become a symbol of his transformation and a testament to his dedication to the team and the sport he loved.

On the day of the game, Tom felt a new power surging through him. He was a force to be reckoned with, a blend of strength, speed, and surprising agility for his size. His belly had become a symbol of his transformation, a testament to his dedication to the team and the sport he loved.

In a thrilling match, Tom's team secured victory, and he had become an unbreakable wall on the field. His size had played a pivotal role in the win, and Tom's teammates couldn't have been more grateful for his extraordinary dedication.

After the game, Tom returned to Coach Williams, a triumphant grin on his face. "I did it, Coach," he said, patting his robust belly. "I never thought I'd bulk up like this, but I'm glad I did."

Coach Williams smiled, recognizing the pride and accomplishment in Tom's eyes. "You've become an inspiration to your teammates and a formidable player, Tom. That belly of yours? It's a badge of honor. You've shown what determination and trust can achieve."

As the season progressed, Tom's belly continued to grow, but so...

Read the rest of this story for free

#gainer stories #gainer fiction #gay gainer #gainer story #football gainer #dirty bulking

[restinslices]

MK1 x Winter Soldier Reader Intros

Me not writing only about the Lin Kuei Bros? Who would've thought. Idk why I thought of this but here we are. For those not into Marvel the simplest way to explain TWS is he was in the Army in the 50s then he was injected with the super soldier serum and forced to become an assassin with over two dozen assassinations in the last 50 years. You're not a white guy named James “Bucky” Barnes, you just hold the title. Also you got a metal arm, it’ll make sense later-

Kung Lao: You’re a Winter Soldier? 

Y/N: I am The Winter Soldier 

Kung Lao: Ugh, more training?

Y/N: Do you expect to get better through sheer luck?

Kung Lao: I take it Liu Kang doesn’t allow assassins to be Earthrealm’s champion?

Y/N: Assassins and failures, such as yourself

 

Kung Lao: How do I become a Winter Soldier?

Y/N: You don’t 

Raiden: It is an honor to be trained by you 

Y/N: As is to train Earthrealm’s champion 

Raiden: I can’t imagine going through what you have 

Y/N: Good. You’ll save yourself nightmares

 

Y/N: Sometimes I worry I’m not a good person

Raiden: You are a good person through and through

 

Y/N: I wish I had lightning powers

Raiden: I wish I had your metal arm

(These rabid dogs behind him-)

Liu Kang: I hoped your life would be better this time

Y/N: Why hope when you had the power to change it and didn’t?

Y/N: You let my life go down this path?

Liu Kang: I cannot control everything

 

Y/N: You let me be a part of Earthrealm’s defenses, why? Pity?

Liu Kang: Because you are a capable warrior who deserves more in life

Liu Kang: Do you doubt my care for you?

Y/N: You expect me to still believe our friendship is real?

Y/N: I am not playing an assassin in your movie

Johnny: Aw, but you have tons of experience 

Johnny: How much for the arm?

Y/N: Not for sale

(That debt kicking his ass)

Johnny: Your life could make an amazing movie

Y/N: You’ll become a real victim if I see it

Johnny: Over two dozen assassinations but a date with me would ruin you?

Y/N: If I had to pick between being a mindless assassin and dating you, I’d put my mask back on

Kenshi: Wanna trade predicaments?

Y/N: A blindfold looks much better on you

 

Kenshi: Have you ever fought a blind swordsman?

Y/N: Not sure it’d be fair to count it as a fight

 

Y/N: I too understand the need for a new life 

Kenshi: Perhaps that is why we are such good friends

 

Kenshi: Planning on giving me a hand?

Y/N: I don’t think you’d see it coming

Y/N: And they call me The Winter Soldier 

Bi-Han: Jokes will not help you win this fight

 

Bi-Han: You have not a shred of hope against the Lin Kuei’s Grandmaster

Y/N: Your ego is what’ll knock you down in the end

 

Bi-Han: You won’t have the element of surprise with me

Y/N: Oh Bi-Han, I’ll be the last thing you see before you die 

Bi-Han: You alone won’t take the Lin Kuei down

Y/N: I’ve taken a whole country down in one night. Excuse me for not being scared

Kuai Liang: I am glad to have your support 

Y/N: You always will

 

Y/N: Are you willing to kill Bi-Han if he does not back down?

Kuai Liang: I am not sure

Y/N: Liu Kang could’ve made all our lives better and chose not to

Kuai Liang: You have to believe in his judgment

 

Kuai Liang: Liu Kang is not your enemy 

Y/N: He is certainly not our friend

Y/N: I’ve heard you’re a great fighter 

Tomas: I’ve heard the same about you

 

Tomas: You look great for 106 years old

Y/N: God, you gotta stop hanging around Johnny

 

Tomas: Why still defend Earthrealm if you’re so angry?

Y/N: The same reason you do; the need to protect is bigger than anger

Tomas: Why’d I have to hit Madam Bo and not you?

Y/N: I’m left/right handed and that’s the metal one soooo…

"I'm gonna write angst soon" *proceeds to write dumb Marvel x Mortal Kombat shit* I could've looked for gifs when they clash but my tumblr is actually so glitchy, if I did that I'd Kate Marsh. Also disclaimer. I should be writing Liar pt 3 and I have some of it written but I'm fr not having fun with it. For whatever reason it's just not making me happy like Mortal Kombat is. And as a bitch who has bad depression and that shit gets alarmingly bad during this time of year, uhhh I don't wanna do something that's not making me happy. I'm not tryna go to another hospital so Imma put off writing it until I'm having fun. Who knows, maybe that'll be next week. But yeah, that's for the Shadow and Bone fans here. Also also a fanfic, oneshot, drabble, whatever the fuck about being with Liu Kang (or being friends) and thinking your relationship is fake because as your creator he must've forced it to happen (he didn't but ya know). Am I cooking 'cause I feel like I am.

#mortal kombat x marvel #mk1 #mk1 intros #mk1 2023 #kung lao #kung lao mk1 #kung lao mk1 intro #mortal kombat 1 #raiden mk1 #raiden mk1 intro #liu kang #liu kang mk1 #liu kang mk1 intro #johnny cage #johnny cage mk1 #johnny cage mk1 intro #kenshi takahashi #kenshi takahashi mk1 #kenshi takahashi mk1 intro #bi han #bi han mk1 #bi han sub zero #bi han mk1 intro #kuai liang #kuai liang scorpion #kuai liang mk1 #kuai liang mk1 intro #tomas vrbada #tomas vrbada smoke #tomas vrbada mk1

[charmwasjess]

Sometime, I'd love to do another lightsaber theory/analysis post with Vaapad vs. Makashi, i.e., me just wanting to lovingly imagine how a Dooku vs. Mace Windu duel would go.

My first instinct is that this would be a really beautiful and interesting fight to watch, but one that Mace would definitively win, as the strengths of Vaapad would play well against the weaknesses of Makashi, specifically it's inability to take a hammering from a real power form. And Dooku's usual mitigating factors to solve for this weakness - his sheer physical strength and height, his creativity in using his Force talents to interpose lightning or ...pieces of decor to give himself a break - seem like things Mace would be prepared for and adept at countering. Mace's 6'2 (1.92m) height to Dooku's 6'5 (1.96m) means our Count isn't quite enjoying the reach bonus he's used to, and Mace knows him personally, knows his fighting style in a way that his little surprises and redirects aren't as fresh.

In terms of sheer lightsaber ability, we might also consider that Mace is able to get the upper hand on Sidious in a duel, whereas Dooku decidedly treats Sidious like someone who can and has thoroughly whipped his ass, even going as far as to trying to enlist his graduate students to help him take him down. (Implying that he's considered and rejected the prospect of doing it on his own.)

On the other hand, I think it's worth weighing the fact that neither one of them really want to destroy the other, even if they both would definitely do so for the sake of their causes. I think there's a little bit a lingering psychological reluctance there that has Mace going after Jango first, not Dooku, on Geonoisis. For Dooku's part, he doesn't even pull out his lightsaber during their confrontation. A little thing, but little things can determine lightsaber duels. There's also the possibility that Vaapad's ability to uniquely combat and channel/redirect dark side users might be less effective on a Sith like Dooku, who doesn't appear to (typically) get off on the same towering rage-fueled murder frenzy other Sith demonstrate in battle, who has 50 years of Jedi breathing exercises under his crunchy Sith candy coating. If anything, he appears to be genuinely having a great fucking time during most of his duels. (After all, when does he ever get to do anything fun?!) I'm not sure that passes the sniff test though; alas, even I am capable of Dooku apologist tendencies.

Anyway, it's interesting. What do you think?

#mace windu #count dooku #lightsaber forms #star wars meta #lightsaber nerd stuff #star wars prequels #I should read shatterpoint again

[cringefail-clown]

there are many things that are still under ??? tab when it comes to turnabout au but one of the biggest ones is if caliborn and calliope should be swapped as well. on the one hand i'd be a huge pain in the ass because it'd completely change the whole narrative and how the events of homestuck play out - instead of caliborns bending the timeline through sheer power of will to suit his narrative and ensure his own arrival it'd have to be more... subtle, tiny moments that have the butterfly effect of making calliope come on top. going with her classpect as the muse of space, she'd more likely be inspiring certain events opposed to head-to-the-brickwalling it through the narrative, for example perhaps Alternia started as this utopian fever dream curtesy of feferi being the empress in the post-scratch universe, but as the time went by things would keep not going right, maybe the alternian trolls, changed by meddling from doc scratch, wouldnt take too eagerly to the idea of caring about those lower on the hemospectrum, maybe feferi would start to feel paranoid about the coming of the next fuchsiablood, thinking that her idea of how to run the place is the only right one, ultimately sending her down the path of quietly getting rid of any fuchsia grubs being born. maybe this coming to the light would spark protests from people already tired of the cotton-candy coddling culture enforced on them, which would lead to her finally breaking and it spiraling into the brutal alternia that we know from the canon

what im trying to say is callies villany would be more like planting little seeds and waiting for the results. not everything would go exactly how she planned, but at the end of the day it'd lead to the same place - her winning the sburb game between the two cherubs. like in a game of chess - one perfectly executed move would open up five others leading to the victory. i honestly like this idea of a cold, cunning villain - cal was really fun in canon, but this version of calliope? downright meancing, a force to be reconed with. but as i said, it would be a shitton of work.

on the other hand, the idea of caliborn being the support character is so fucking hysterical to me im willing to jump through the hoops just to make that happen. like imagine the guy. imagine, instead of being this absolute trashbag of misogyny and toxic masculinity, he'd be more like the tumblr warriormale-esque dude. just aggresively suppotive of his little nuclear unit of a friend group. dave would have an absolute blast with this guy. im losing my mind just thinking about it

#mage of mind rambles #turnabout au #homestuck #calliope #caliborn #this concept just amuses me to no end

[golden-buddle]

Hey mutual, figure the third Omegaverse thing was startin to get long again lol. So I thought I'd respond here instead >:3 (Also have links to the previous ones for easy access lmao) 1_ 2_ 3_

You know what would be kind of adorable? If it was Tim who got all angry at the gossip magazines. Everyone else is used to it and finds it kind of funny after all, since as you said, people outside of Gotham don't know the nuances of Gothamite body language. But Tim has been slowly coaxed into acting like a pup, been reassured that him acting like that is okay and is perfectly natural. So seeing people trying to claim Bruce isn't a good caretaker in a way that straight up targets that behavior? Oh baby boi is going to throw a fit.

Also love the idea of even other Gothamites going, yeah, the bats are more than a little feral, even for us lol. They've seen it all from the gleeful murder-baby first Robin to the trying-to-bite-your-ears-off second Robin to gonna-jump-off-this-bridge-and-take-you-with-me Batgirl. To the big bat himself who will see what could account as a straight up mob worth of people and go yeah I can fight that, and actually does, and wins.

Like that's just utterly hilarious to me lol.

Actually, before I forget, I feel like Damian's and Tim's relationship would be better in this. Seeing as Damian is younger and both Tim and Dick are very familiar with being unfamiliar with pup behavior or being forced to try and stop doing it. Which thankfully it wasn't to the extent of Tim, but still. He's the itty bitty baby of the pack who doesn't want to let anyone go the moment he realizes they won't betray him. Similar to how Tim is once he finally realizes the Waynes won't leave him and actually want him to stay.

Also remind me to sketch out the different fangs when my hands aren't shaking lol

Oh Tim DEFINITELY rips into the gossip mags.

He may be a lil pup and semi-recently got placed with the Wayne Pack, but by GOD is he going to send some angry emails.

Honestly I can see him reaching out to the daily planet as ‘Bruce’ and setting up an interview to clear it all up.

But until that happens, Tim gets scruffed and brought into the nest SO often to calm him down.

Like. Calm down pup! You are TOO angy!

Speaking of Tim and Damian’s relationship- they have the best relationship by far in the Pack. Tim can and will throw down for his new little brother. And the brotherly instincts he never had before (and thusly never had to stifle before) doesn’t help either.

Dami is more or less constantly following either his Mum, Jason, or Tim.

If he has to, he’ll tag along with Dick and Alfred, but in order of his favorite pack members Tim is definitely up there with Jason and Bruce.

He can and will use the fact that he’s just an itty bitty pup and whine and whine to get carried around. He may be an independent pup, and he DOES like to wander around on his own, but he absolutely loves being engulfed by his packmate’s scents.

It’s so very different to when he first left the cloning pod and all he could smell was blood and sterile alcohols.

And finally for how Gotham views the Feral Bats??

It’s DEFINITELY like that. Gotham is in awe over their guardians (and I can’t help but see them putting the Batfamily up as embodiments of the city, Gothamites definitely definitely made shrines for the Batfamily that dot about the city)

The Agent, the one who walked the streets long before the Bat flew for the first time, who holds ears in the highest of places and knows far too much that he rarely shares with others. The one who was only connected to the bats far, far down the line.

The Motherly-Protective Bat who has claws like in the old days, who bares his fangs and rips into flesh with no hesitation to protect his city-pups and actual pups. Who dragged the first of the costumed rogues back to Arkham by sheer force and detective skills.

The First Robin who was gleefully blood thirsty, somehow the most animalistic of the pack as he chirped and trilled and danced in the air. Flying like his namesake as he bares his puppy fangs in a barely constrained aggressive smirk.

The Batgirl (Cuckoo) who nearly flew as well as the First Robin, the one who chirped and warbled and forced herself into the Bat’s nest and first showed the City what happened to those who hurts those the Bat holds dear and who showed what happened to who the Bat deems as unwelcome to his territory.

The Nightingale, the first of the robins to grow up, the one with fangs he never hid and a voice as sweet as his feathers. The one who talks as much as he growls, the one who shreds his enemies with enough cheer and electricity to drown a clown.

The Second Robin, (Cardinal, clad in blood reds and spiked feathers, somehow still in the familiar designs of the First Robin) the one taken far too soon who didn’t quite fly as he did glide. The one who hid in his mother’s cape, only leaving to fight and protect-protect-protect just like his mother. The one who showed what happened to those who ignore that they were chased out of the Bat’s territory.

The Third Robin (Crow, Clad in blacks and shiny feathers but still the familiar Robin design) The one who is too smart for his own good- the one who ended the grip that the Bat’s bloodstained claws held on the city. He clings to his mother, only leaving to find more of his pack.

The Forth Robin, (Starling, purples and blacks and shimmering feathers that seem to mirror your face back at you) The blending of Batgirl and Robin, the one who was dragged into the Bat Pack when Crow wandered too far from his mother and needed her help finding his way back to the nest. All the gracefulness of the Bats and the Aggressiveness of the Robins twirled into one sparkling purple attack.

The Cardinal, the second of the robins to grow up, the one who took the name that was whispered in the alleys as his own. Who came into the scene with a splash of blood as bright and soaking as his initial departure. Who’s eyes glow with Unseen bloodlust and protection that followed his mother’s steps.

#Omegaverse #alpha beta omega #A/B/O #i want you to know seeing you in my ask box instead of the other way around is hilarious #it’s like I walked into my kitchen and you’re there just making a smoothie #and when I ask what are you doing here #you just lift up the blender like #“’making a smoothie.’” #hilarious lmao #Post Writing Edit: I uh. #i got carried away into writing lmao #may not be an actual fic or ficlet but still-

[jedi-enthusiast]

Debunking the "The Jedi are Evil" Theory Made by The Film Theorists PT 6

Point 6 - The Jedi Left Shimi in Slavery

Continuing on, Matthew says this:

"In fact, the Jedi care so little about the relationship between parent and child, that in the Prequel trilogy Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan literally leave Anakin's mother on Tatooine to continue living in slavery in Episode 1. We're told that they take Anakin, but not his mother because they don't have the money to buy her freedom from Watto."

WRONG!

And, what's funny is, he plays the exact clip that shows this is wrong right after he makes this statement.

They didn't free her because Watto refused, likely because he didn't want to lose both his slaves in one day, but not because they didn't have enough money or wouldn't pay the price Watto set.

---

Matthew quote, continued:

"But then a decade goes by without him ever following up. At no point during the 10 year period did anyone bother to think- 'Hey, maybe we should, you know, go check on Anakin's mother to make sure she's alive or, I don't know, maybe go back to buy her freedom since we have the money to do it, and we've won the war, and her son happens to be the most powerful Force-user in history.'"

First of all, Qui-Gon fucking dies like the day after freeing Anakin--so he can't follow up--and Obi-Wan, for a nice chunk of time afterwards I'd say, is a little too busy dealing with the grief of losing his Master (or his "parent," since obviously Matthew thinks parental relationships are the only ones that matter), the mental turmoil of killing a Sith, and also the sheer whiplash of "holy shit I'm now responsible for a whole other human being, what do I do???"

Like, there's literally a whole thing in a book where Obi-Wan is like "does Anakin know how to swim???" so I think there were some more pressing matters on his mind than worrying about Shmi.

I will also say that in another video Matthew says that Shmi and Anakin were just fine as slaves because Watto is shown to "treat them well," so he can't really use both arguments in this situation. If Shmi was "just fine" in slavery, then why should the Jedi go back to check on her or free her?

Either she's fine and the Jedi have no reason to go check on her, or she's not fine and the Jedi need to.

One or the other, buddy.

Plus, only Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon, and Anakin knew about Shmi. Qui-Gon dies, Obi-Wan is juggling enough things as is, and Anakin clearly never tells anyone else about his mother--so what was anyone else supposed to do about someone they didn't even know existed?

Second...you're getting your movies and also literally everything that happens mixed up.

The Jedi do not "win the war," a war fucking starts--which spreads them thin across the galaxy to the point that they can barely take care of the problems right under their noses without another fire starting somewhere else that they need to get to, so I doubt they'd have the time to go searching for Shmi. Plus, at the end of that war, the Jedi get fucking genocided...idk what you want them to do while they're getting murdered in the halls of their home.

Now, if you're talking about the mess on Naboo, that is over at the end of TPM--not in the "10 year span" you're talking about. It wouldn't be a stretch to say that, if Obi-Wan did go back to try and buy Shmi's freedom, that Watto's answer would be the same, and what would be the point of Obi-Wan going back a day after Watto already refused to ask the same question again?

And why isn't Padme held to the same standard?

Why aren't you asking why she--with more money, power, time, and resources--didn't go back to free Shmi?

Interesting double standard there.

---

Matthew quote continued:

"What makes the death of Anakin's mother all the more tragic, is that all of it could have been prevented. He reaches her just as she's in her dying breaths. Had he arrived days, or even hours earlier, his journey to Tatooine might not have ended with him having to bury her. The only reason that Anakin even knew about her is because he could sense her suffering."

Yeah, it could have been prevented...if Anakin had actually told anyone about his dreams.

In AotC Anakin mentions to Obi-Wan that he's been having dreams about his mother, but he doesn't elaborate. And when Obi-Wan tries to talk to him about those vague dreams that Anakin is telling him fuck-all about, Anakin switches the subject to Padme and doesn't bring it up to Obi-Wan again.

The Jedi are shown again and again to be extremely empathetic and, as I said before, they don't bar people from visiting their biological families if that's what they choose. If Anakin had actually told Obi-Wan "I've been having dreams of my mother dying on Tatooine and I can literally sense her pain and suffering," odds are that Obi-Wan would have encouraged him to go and check on her.

And it's made clear that Anakin was having those dreams for a while. His mother was gone for a month. If, at any point in time Anakin had actually told someone about his dreams, he probably could've gone to check on her earlier and would've been able to save her.

The only reason that Anakin wasn't supposed to go later on in the movie was because he was literally the sole person responsible for the safety of a very important Senator who people were actively trying to assassinate.

#star wars #sw prequels #pro jedi #pro jedi council #pro jedi order #in defense of the jedi #in defense of the jedi council #anti anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker critical

[unholy-screeching9]

If you're still taking hc requests I'd love to see some bottom Dice,,maybe bdsm mixed in there

Of course, dear! I hope this was up to your tastes. Sorry this took so long!

NSFW CONTENT WARNING!! 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI.

💋

Bottom!King Dice x Reader NSFW Headcanons

Bottom!King Dice x Reader NSFW Headcanons (GAME)

It’s no secret to you (or to anyone, really) that King Dice clings to control. It’s in his nature, as a power-hungry and greedy man. 

He is at his happiest when everything plays out exactly how he wants it to in his head. When he has the chance to manipulate any situation, or even any person, he snatches the opportunity as quick as it comes. 

For what it’s worth, you don’t blame him one bit. As one of the only mortals hired by the Devil, it’s important to Dice that he makes his mark. That he shows everyone that just because he is more physically vulnerable, that doesn’t mean he is some kind of punching bag. 

Oh, no. King Dice is the one pulling the punches. 

More often than not, this dominant behavior applies to the bedroom, as well. When you and your husband are intimate with each other, it’s almost ALWAYS likely that Dice is the one to take the reins. 

However, every once in a while… there’s a night where the King lays down his crown. A night where he is the one who surrenders. 

The nights where you take control.

There are a plethora of different reasons that you might be taking charge for the night—perhaps Dice isn’t feeling his best and needs some help in relaxing, or maybe it’s a special night for you, and obedience is one of your husband’s gifts to you.

However… Your favorite way to take control is to earn it. 

You don’t just get to take over the rules just by asking politely, as cute as you are when you do so. That’s not how Dice’s game is played. If you really want something? You have to take it. 

At first, you’re upfront with your demands, using a straight-forward, ‘no is not an answer’ attitude. This approach usually causes a bicker between the two of you, going back and forth until you eventually rip his clothes off of him and shove him on the bed, overtaking him while he’s off guard. 

This method works flawlessly, for a little while. Although, while you two make love, Dice does become a bit of a brat to you, exaggerating his moans and whines to the point where it’s unbelievable. 

It’s almost like he’s mocking you. Rarely does Dice ever take you seriously when you’re topping him for the night… as cute as he is while keeping things humorous, it really is annoying. 

However, overtaking your husband and truly bringing him to his knees is an art that requires experimentation and skill. And as far as you are concerned, you are an artist. 

So, you start getting a little more creative with your tactics. Becoming a brat yourself, until Dice finally lets up and allows you to have dominance. Pinning him down, engaging in a playful little wrestling game and winning out of sheer determination, despite the fact that your husband could very easily take you down. 

But recently, you’ve found an approach that works every time, without fail. 

The ropes. 

Oh, how invigorating it is to get home before your husband, grabbing the bindings that he had used on you so many times before. The look of infatuated horror when he walks in and sees you waiting patiently, the ropes securely wrapped around your hands? It’s delicious. 

Dice may be stronger than you, but you’re quicker on your feet. And in this game, speed is key. Just your luck. 

As soon as you catch him, and effectively tie him down? The knowledge that brattiness and struggle would be futile forces Dice to surrender, and he is yours for the night. That confident, menacing demeanor that was supposed to be so permanent dissipates, and all that’s left is a pouting, naked, blushing mess tied up in front of you. 

But the fun doesn’t just stop at the ropes. Those are only to make sure he doesn’t try any funny business while you’re in charge. What really brings on the entertainment and pleasure is the box of… tools, that you keep under the bed. Those are what really make Dice squirm in his place. 

As your lover adjusts to his current situation, you rummage through the box, looking for your favorite. You feel the familiar sensation of leather tresses brushing against your fingers, and you quickly pull out to our prize, grinning smugly.

The flogger. Your weapon of choice. 

“Y’know, you look so adorable all tied up like that, Dice. It’s like you’re a blank canvas, waiting for me to paint you.” 

The look that Dice gives you is absolutely exquisite. You don’t think you’ll ever grow tired of watching those confident, icy eyes turn soft on you, practically begging you for mercy. And goodness, you haven’t even started yet. 

“Oh, doll, please go easy on me with that thing, you know how sensitive my skin can get!” 

“Easy, babylove. I haven’t even touched you yet! What happened to your confident charisma?” You laugh to yourself, creeping closer to his tied up form on the bed, shaking the flogger teasingly. “Alright, sweetheart. If you be a good boy and sit tight for me, I might answer your pleas.” 

Dice grits his teeth and squeezes his eyes, shut, bracing himself for the impact of the flogger’s crack… But it never comes. He waits a little longer, muscles tense as he keeps up his guard, but the familiar sting of pleasure and pain never comes. 

What he expects even less is the ticklish feeling of soft leather brush up against his bicep. Oh…

Oh no. 

“Besides, my King… There are so many uses for this thing that don’t just involve pain. Sometimes, it can bring laughter.” 

Straddling his lap, you rest a hand on his right shoulder as you brush the tresses of the whip along his bicep, enjoying the sweet melodious sound of his laughter. 

Such a shame that he always insists on being the one on top… he really is so cute when he lets you control him for a change. You relish in the time you spend teasing, tricking, and marking Dice up like a work of art. 

You continue to let the flogger’s strings sweep over your lover’s skin, slowly making your way to that ticklish spot that you had discovered a long time ago: his neck area. 

Oh, you’ll never grow tired of the way he squirms underneath you, his uncontrollable laughter echoing through the room as you continue to tickle him with the very same tool you’ve used to lash him up. 

“I–doll, what–what are–you dOING–?!” Dice spits out between guffaws, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes as you continue to gently swipe over his collarbone. 

“Oh, don’t you worry about that, highness.” You smirk as you quickly crack the flogger over his chest, earning a beautiful roar of surprise from the man pinned beneath you. “I’m just keeping you on your toes…” 

“Aw come on, that’s not fair! I asked you to take it eASY—!” You don’t let him finish, playfully shaking your flogger’s tresses against his chest and sliding down to his stomach. 

Another sweet spot.

Another bout of chortles erupts from Dice’s throat, the man struggling against his restraints. Those tears that threatened to fall finally started rolling down his cheeks, picking up his mascara along the way. What a beautiful work of art his tears make of his face.

And that smooth, ivory skin as he tries to move away from your flogger’s teasing. Shining as he starts to sweat from the heat of the room, along with his hindered ability to breathe. So soft. So flawless.

You want to mark it up. 

Out of nowhere, catching your husband completely off his guard, you suddenly crack the flogger against his chest, relishing in that loud, pained whine that your husband let out. Dice grits his teeth in an attempt to curb his vocalizing, not wanting to appear weak in front of you. 

He’s fighting back, in his own, adorably pathetic way. 

Another crack of your special tool, this time, over his stomach. Still wanting to have a little dignity, the man keeps his teeth gritted, letting out a choked grunt as he squeezes his eyes shut. More tears fall down his cheeks, much to his protest. 

“Awww, what’s the matter baby? You don’t wanna whine for me?” You coo teasingly, going back to the gentle ticklish movements with your flogger once more, forcing another round of laughter from your poor lover. 

“I— N—!” 

How precious. Dice can barely even talk. Usually, the man would have a lot to say to you, even when you’re playing with his senses like this. You must have finally cracked him. 

“C’mon, Dice, use your big boy words. Lemme hear what you have to say…” 

The man struggles beneath you, trying desperately to curb his laughter and stop squirming so much. This is absolutely humiliating. How could you render him so helpless? Completely at your mercy? 

“N—No—! Never—! I won’t—I won’t whine! I won’t beg, cry, plead, none—!!” 

Ooooh, such bold claims from a man who can barely contain his laughter from something as small as a little tickle from your flogger. Dice is always one to talk a big game, even when he doesn’t exactly have the upper hand. 

He wants to play? Oh, you’ll play. 

Another crack to that beautiful porcelain chokes out another agonized scream, your husband throwing his head back as fresh tears streak down his cheeks, sweat starting to bead at the sides of his head. God, he is glistening beneath you. And that’s not even the best part. 

The real kicker is the pressure building against your thigh, that is perfectly snug right in between Dice’s crotch. He’ll never tell, but dammit, he likes what you’re doing. The proof is leaking slightly onto your leg. 

You know what he wants. But he has to earn it. 

“You poor, poor thing… Look at yourself, Dice. Look at how you squirm underneath me, your cock pressing right up against me. You try to act tough, you deny your feelings and cling to the last smidge of authority you think you have… come now, highness. You enjoy this.” 

“I–No–!” 

“Yes, babydoll. You love it when I use your fear against you, don’t you?” 

The pressure is growing. That voice you’re using against him is driving him nuts. Even if he refuses to tell you, he doesn’t need to. You can feel it. 

“I…” 

Another crack of the whip. This time, right on his inner thigh, near his hardened erection. Oh, how he howls. It truly is such a beautiful sound, one that you don’t get to hear often. Usually, the roles are reversed, and Dice is the one undoing you. 

How amazing it feels to be the one taking the reins. You should do this more often–you’ve certainly got the speed to do so. 

But that’s something to think about at a later time. Right now, there are more important things to deal with. 

“I’ll drop the funny business and give you what you want, baby. I can see the longing in those glossy greens of yours. But I’ll only pleasure you if you ask for it.” 

Hearing you talking to him with such authority and demand makes Dice sick to his stomach. It’s not just the way you’ve stripped him of his dominance, and humiliated him in his own chambers. It’s not just the way you’ve ruined his beautiful skin, marring him with scars that will surely last over a week. 

What pisses him off the most is how his body betrays him, and proves you right. You’re absolutely right. He does love it when you smack him with that damned flogger of yours. He loves it when you toy with his emotions like a cat messing with its prey. It turns him on. Dammit, he needs you. He needs your help. 

“I.. Doll…”

“Hm? What was that, Dicey? Please, do be a dear and speak up.”

“Please, darlin’, please help me out here. I’ve let you have your fun, and you’re right. Your tricks worked like a charm. Now would you kindly wrap this up and get it all over with? I’m starting to get antsy here!”

You lean back in his lap, placing a hand on your chin as you think for a moment. Seconds later, you shake your head, laughing lowly as you lean forward, getting right in your husband’s face and running your hands over his bleeding collarbone. 

“That was such a good try sweetheart, you almost got me! But you haven’t been too well behaved since we’ve started tonight… How do I know you’ve earned it? How do I know that you really want it?”

Dice hisses at the sharp sting of your touch, fidgeting underneath you as the last bit of his iron shell starts to flake away. Even your fingers are rendering him helpless, and fuck, as much as it infuriates him, he wants you to continue. He needs it. 

“Doll, please! I’m not gonna ask again! Would you please cut the bullshit and just FUCK me already?!”

Ooh, that was the WRONG tone to use. Now, you wonder if he’ll earn anything. 

“I know you aren’t showing me attitude, you little bastard. You forget that I can do anything I want. I could end this right now if I really wanted to, and you’re starting to tempt me.”

That certainly shuts him up, real quick. Blushing in embarrassment for losing his temper like that, he looks away, hiding his reddened face from your gaze. Why do you have to be so captivating when you warn him like that? Why was that so hot?!

“P-please, I…”

You crane your neck to get a better look at him, and a malicious, victorious grin graces your features at the sight. You’ve finally made him break. 

Dice’s face is crumpled in dismay, and if you really listened hard, you could hear the tiny hitches in his breaths as he does his best to keep his desperate tears at bay. The sweat that had formed on his face earlier has finally started to drip down the sides, leaving small wet streaks of pink blush running down his cheeks. 

He’s trembling beneath you, his eyes shut tightly as he tries to keep his composure. The casino manager is hanging on by a thread, and fortunately, you brought scissors. 

“Dice, I’ll give you one last chance.” You murmur seductively, cupping his face and tilting his head towards you, forcing him to look you in the eyes. God, he looks even more pathetic with the light shining over his face. He’s so damn handsome, even when his makeup is streaky and his tears are flooding his face. 

“But this time, you need to beg for it. Otherwise, you can go to bed unsatisfied. Deal?”

And there it is. The thread has been cut. Dice leans his head right into your waiting palm, sniffling and kissing all along your fingers as if the gesture would be enough to convince you. His shoulders heave forward, trying to get closer to you. He’s aching for your touch, no matter how little. 

You smirk to yourself, poking your pointer finger at his lips, demanding entrance. He complies immediately, allowing you to slip your finger inside and explore that bratty little mouth of his. In fact, he goes the extra mile and sucks on it, allowing you to push your middle finger against his tongue as well. He lifts and lowers his head onto your hand, his tongue expertly working around your digits until you’ve decided he’s done enough. 

When you pull your fingers away, a small string of his drool connects the tip of your middle finger to his bottom lip. Aw, now that’s just priceless. 

“Such an obedient little princess, all of a sudden… You want me to fuck you, pretty boy? Is that what you want?”

“Yes, darlin’! Please, please fuck me, I’ll do anything. I’ll beg, I’ll sit, I’ll kneel, whatever you want! I’m dyin’ here, angel!” 

“Dying, you say? Well, I suppose I can’t have a dead husband now, can I?” You tease amusedly, gently pushing him back so he lays against the silky pillows. 

“Please… I’ll be so good for you, sugar. Anything you say, and I’ll do it.” 

“Alright, honey. I guess I’ll give you what you want.” You relent, smiling warmly and positioning yourself above his throbbing cock. “You ready?”

You’ve never seen Dice nod so quickly in your life. How adorable is that? 

What’s even more charming is the loud, piercing whine he lets out as you lower yourself onto him, your nails digging into his shoulders as you steady yourself. You don’t have to sit there much to tell that he is practically overflowing, due to burst at any moment.

Well, this won’t take too long. 

Wanting to hear more of those melodious noises, you finally start moving, finally giving dice what he had been wanting that entire night. Struggling against the ropes, your lover cries out in pleasure, bucking his hips along to your slow, sensual movements. He matches your rhythm easily, despite being so restrained. If anything, you have to commend him for such expertise. That truly takes some skill. 

“F-faster, baby, please-!” 

Awww, how sweet. He’s asking so nicely. But you didn’t recall asking him to speak.

You lean forward and crash your lips onto his to shut him up, taking his head in your hands as you continue at the pace you’re currently in. He wants you to go faster? He’ll have to wait patiently. 

You won’t lie, though, the little whimpers and moans he releases into your mouth are so pathetically endearing that they do tempt you to go faster, in pursuit of your own release. You suppose that to please yourself, it wouldn’t hurt to also please your husband at least a little. 

So, you pick up your pace, only slightly. However, to your surprise, it’s still enough to drive your husband into a groaning and crying frenzy underneath your form. The whines he makes double in volume and length, and his hip movements speed up to match your rhythm once more. With how rough he’s trying to be, you can tell he’s so desperate for more. It’s so entertaining to watch. 

You can feel his cock getting closer and closer to release from inside you. You can also see it on your husband’s sweaty and tearful face–and hear it in his voice. 

But you aren’t quite done yet. 

You slow back down to the pace you were going at the beginning, much to Dice’s dismay. Before he can complain and ask why you slowed down, you deepen your kiss, cutting off any air that Dice was breathing in. Silent, sweaty, and his lips all over yours–exactly how you like it. 

A wonderful reminder that tonight, everything is up to your standards. You have the final say. Man, does that power feel amazing to hold. No wonder Dice enjoys his job so much. 

“I know you’re confused at why I slowed down, sweetheart, but if I’m being honest? I don’t know if you can handle it if I pick up the pace. You’ll be done before I say so–”

“No-! I mean, n-no. No, I won’t. I promise you, baby. I said I’ll be good, and I mean it. I’ll be good, and I won’t cum until you let me. Please, please speed up, mi corazón. I don’t know how much longer I can wait.” 

“Hmm… Well, since you promised. But let me warn you, King.” 

You grip the bottom of his head, forcefully tilting his head up towards you, staring him down as you cease both your own movements, and his. 

“You cum before I say so, and I will wreck you so hard everyone in the casino is gonna wonder why you’re walking so funny. You’ll be lucky if you aren’t out there in a wheelchair if you defy me, you understand?” 

“I understand, sweets. Anything you say.”

Taking his word, your grip returns to his shoulders once again, and you start to pick up the pace. Faster. Faster. Until every time you come down on his cock, his entire length disappears inside of you. 

Oh, LORD, that hurts. It hurts so fucking good. You start to wonder if you had been punishing him for waiting this long, or yourself. 

It doesn’t take the both of you long to get lost in each other’s trance, finding your steady, quick rhythm and working through it together. Dice’s head slowly lolls back as he does as much as he can, trying so hard not to lose his composure.

When you make a threat, it’s best to take you seriously. And Dice does not want to explain to his boss why he can’t show up for work the next day. 

But god, you feel incredible on his dick, the way you slide on and off of him with such smooth rigor, your skin slapping against his over and over again, creating a beautiful sound that he’d never grow tired of. It’s enough to get him close. 

Too close. Way too close. 

Dice is towing that line now, and he knows it. If he doesn’t gain his composure soon, he’ll end up misbehaving, and then you’ll REALLY be upset. 

He can hold on for a little longer. He can sense that you’re getting closer too. He can do this. Just a little longer…

Just… a little… 

Suddenly, your lover screams in ecstasy, his eyes squeezing shut as he releases every last drop of seed inside of you, stuffing you so much that a little leaks out and starts to run down your thighs. Oh, fuck. 

FUCK. 

“…I…D-doll, I’m- I’m sorry. I know, I promised, and I broke that promise. I don’t know what came over me, I swear! Please, please have mercy on m–”

“Aww, Dicey, it’s alright.” You muse lovingly, cupping his face and pressing a warm, tender kiss to his sweating forehead. 

What? 

What do you mean it’s alright? Surely, for someone who was disobeyed after putting up with his attitude all night, it would be anything but okay. 

“I… Are you sure?” 

“Yes, Dice, of course! It happens. Mistakes happen…” 

Before Dice can truly feel the relief of being off the hook, he feels your nails dig deep into his shoulders, drawing a bit of blood that ends up trickling down and mingling with the small beads of blood left from your flogger’s wrath. 

The man lets out a soft growl of pain, gritting his teeth and reflexively struggling against the ropes, but your nails in his flesh aren’t even close to the amount of pain you have in store for him. 

“Ah! Be careful, sweetheart. You move against those restraints too much, and you’ll end up with rope burns.” 

There’s something off about your tone. Sure, it’s kind and concerned, but it’s just… eerie. There’s a hint of malice that’s enough to make Dice slightly uncomfortable. 

“Darlin’, are you positive it’s alright? You seem a little tens—!!!!” 

Before he can finish, you start pounding yourself onto him, moving with such force that could break his legs if you aren’t careful. The suddenness of your movements knock the wind right out of Dice’s lungs, and all that he can do is gasp before holding his breath, tensing up as you continue to shake the bed. 

Holy SHIT, that hurts. Dice has really done it this time. 

“S-sweet—sWEETHEART! Ple-ase! I’m—!” 

“Easy now, my king. It’s all gonna be alright!” You call back to him with that same overly kind voice, bringing down your nails and scratching up his shoulders as you fuck him into the mattress, chasing after your own release. 

He had ONE job. One simple task: to wait until you said he could cum. It’s not like he was doing much of the work, either—Dice is tied down. He can’t use anything to aid you. That’s not how this night works. 

The ONE thing you asked him to do, and he blows it. How disappointing. 

Because now, you have to chase your own release, all by yourself. Dice was supposed to help you, but now, he’s just an exhausted shell of the man he was just a few minutes ago. Just like you had been thinking since the beginning of the night. Pathetic. 

“D-DARLIN’—! I’M- I’M S-SORR—!!” 

The man can’t even speak properly. Every time he tries, you knock the breath right out from him, leaving him gasping for air as you continue to release your anger on his poor shaking legs. 

“You don’t have to apologize, baby! Things happen!” 

Oh, but he does. He knows you better than anyone—you’re pissed. Beyond pissed. And you have every right. He understands. He’s been such a bad boy, he deserves every ounce of pain you inflict on him. That’s how punishments work.

Jesus, does it hurt to get a taste of his own medicine. 

The minutes that pass by feel like hours for Dice, and seconds for you. Once Dice finally gets the hint and shuts his trap, the only sounds in the room are his restrained moans and shouts, your ragged breaths as you continue to chase after sweet release, and the harsh creaking of the bed moving way more than it should be. 

Eventually, you finally reach your climax, spilling your juices all over Dice’s front, covering his stomach. After he dared to disobey you, you’ve finally had your revenge. When you slide off of him and collapse beside him, panting heavily, you slowly look over and admire your handiwork. 

To say that Dice is exhausted is an understatement. The man looks beaten, his breaths shaky and labored as he comes down and recovers from whatever the hell you had put him through. His legs are barely functional, unmoving aside from the slight tremors that come from the shock of your sudden wrath. 

A small stream of saliva runs down his chin, slowly trickling down the two face of his head, disappearing near his neck area. Sweat drips down his skin as well, leaving him drenched, hot, and sticking to the sheets below. The ropes he had been struggling against are still keeping his wrists tightly bound, and you can see the slight red marks from where he had tried to break free. 

You should probably untie him, at the very least. 

You slowly reach over and undo the knots, lazily tossing the ropes off to the side. You can deal with them later. 

Dice barely moves in response, slowly sliding into a semi-comfortable sleeping position. The aftermath of your orgasm is still very much stuck to his stomach, mixing with both his sweat and your own, but neither of you have the energy to clean up. 

His hand slowly, shakily, finds yours, and he squeezes longingly, silently asking you for a cuddle. You give in, and roll onto your side, snuggling comfortably against his side and resting your head on his shoulder. 

Alright, you’ll give him this: he’s so warm. So warm. It’s so nice, you don’t want to be anywhere else. Even if he had disappointed you, you suppose that the cuddles will make up for it. 

You pull up the duvet to cover the both of you, and you settle back down, starting to drift off to sleep when Dice’s low, tired voice catches your ears.

“‘M sorry, pip. I didn’t mean to…” 

Okay, that’s really cute… no matter how hard you try, you just can’t stay mad at him forever. Squeezing his hand, you laugh softly and press a kiss to his cheek, gently rubbing his chest to help his shaking form ease into sleep. 

“Oh, King… It’s seriously alright. I really do mean it this time, I promise. I love you.” 

Finding comfort in your words, your husband finally finds slumber, the tiny shakes in his body slowly dying down as he relaxes. You smile and kiss his shoulder, gently rubbing his chest through the silky covers. 

At the end of the day, it really was an accident, and your time together was still some of the best you’ve had. You can easily find it in you to forgive him. 

Besides… the next morning is where he’ll really feel his punishment.~

Bottom!King Dice x Reader NSFW Headcanons (SHOW)

To many high-end demons who roam down in hell, King Dice seems nothing more than some helpless little lackey that kisses the ground the Devil walks on. A foolish mortal that kisses up to those in power after they give him a smidge of authority somewhere. 

But they don’t see the full picture. 

While they do see Dice bow at the Devil’s feet when he needs to, and watch how much effort the man puts into his work to please his boss, they don’t see the other side. They don’t see the true power Dice has over other people. 

Dice may have his show, and all the fame, money, and glory he desires because of the Devil, but everything in the show truly is Dice’s. He is the one making most of the decisions, from the music to the set design. 

His band appears right from the palm of his hand. Dice decides who to choose for contestants. The clothing he wears is from his favorite tailor. He appoints his driver. The food he eats. The very ground he walks on. 

Dice is in charge of everything, down to the tiniest of details. He’s not some clueless wannabe star who takes what he’s given—aside from his boss, he is the one to make the moves. The alpha. The leader. 

Even in hell, some of the imps recognize Dice for the authoritative and powerful man he is. He’s respected. Idolized, even. There isn’t a meeting that goes by where the showman isn’t bombarded with excited chatter and questions about his work. 

And hey, Dice would be a dishonest fool if he said he didn’t enjoy the attention. He adores it. The peasants cheering his name before he even walks on that stage, the way his cards answer every last call he makes, his boss’s pleasant idle chatter with him… hell, even the carpal tunnel from signing so many damn papers every day gives him fulfillment! 

But there’s one place that he enjoys using his power and dominance the most. And you can’t lie—you enjoy it just as much. 

Under the sheets. 

There’s just something about the authoritative tone that Dice uses on you in the bedroom that hits just the right spots in your head. The way he fondles over your body with those perfect hands of his. The flicker of bright, piercing green in his irises that peeks through whenever things really start to heat up. 

Dice truly is a wonderful sight to behold when he has the chance to show off his control over you, and you’ll never grow tired of his ways of taking over the bedroom.

However… Just because you enjoy one thing doesn’t mean you don’t enjoy another, right?

Sometimes, you’re the one who’d like to be in charge for the night. Dice just makes the idea of dominance so exciting, you can’t deny that you’d be happy to take over every once in a while. 

Curiosity turns to fondness over the idea. And eventually, that fondness turns to craving. Need. But Dice, despite the loving gentleman he is, doesn’t give up so easily. It’s not in his nature to just hand over his authority like it’s some pleasant little gift he bought you. 

The only ways you’d ever get the chance to top him are if he is too tired to make things exciting, or if he needs you to relax him after a stressful day. Otherwise, things are on his terms. 

But the more you imagine taking the reins, the more determined you are. 

You know fully well that Dice will never give you such power just by asking nicely. He’ll think it’s adorable, sure, but you’ll need to try a lot harder than that if you really want to get your way. The showman may be a sweetheart who’d give anything to see you happy, but even so, he’s not your little puppet.

It’s alright, You’re prepared for such things. 

You know your lover better than anyone else in the world. You know his strengths, his motivations, the things he holds dearly. You know his weaknesses, both out of the bedroom, and in. 

And boy, are you ready to use those weaknesses to your advantage. 

To get what you want, you need to be unpredictable. You need to catch your lover right off his feet, so you never strike at a set time frame. Your catch could happen anywhere–in the limo, in your chambers, even in Dice’s own dressing room. 

The latter is certainly your favorite. 

How splendid it feels to sneak into Dice’s domain through the back door, waiting patiently for his show to conclude, perched neatly atop his velvet sofa and listening to his smooth voice manipulating his audience. You’ve chosen a rather enticing outfit to wear, in hopes of sending the hint as soon as Dice comes in to see you. Your special box of ‘tools’ sits right beside you, waiting with you just as patiently. 

You know it’s go-time whenever you hear the overwhelming applause come from the auditorium, your husband sensually thanking everyone for coming out tonight as the curtain finally closes. This is it.

The door to the dressing room creaks open, and in steps your husband, looking bleary-eyed and ready to head home… until his eyes fall onto your waiting figure. He can’t help but stare in awe, confused yet longing eyes tracing and memorizing every single hair on your head. Every thread of fabric on your outfit. Well, he’s certainly awake now. 

“Oh, sweetheart, you look absolutely wonderful tonight. What’s the occasion?” 

You can’t help but chuckle at his dumbfoundedness. It seems that his eyes have completely missed the box that was sitting beside you, too focused on your erotic taste in fashion. Perfect. 

“Nothing too special, dear…” You muse seductively, standing and sauntering over to your husband. Smiling at his adorable fascination and desire, you kiss his cheek and reach at his bow tie, completely undoing it with one firm tug. 

“I just thought that maybe we could have some fun in the studio tonight. You know, to celebrate yet another successful night as Inkwell’s biggest star.” 

“My, my! How forward of you tonight, my love.” Your lover smirks in response, his hands snaking around your sides in an attempt to seduce you right back. “You don’t even want to wait until we’re home, hm? You want me to treat you right here?” 

How sweet of him to try and get you to melt into his arms, as he does every night. But tonight is different. Tonight is your moment to shine, after he’s had many moments on his show. And you have him right where you want him. 

“You’re right about one thing, sugar. I don’t want to wait until we’re home, the ride is rather long. However…”

Snap!

You grin wickedly as your sleek handcuffs secure perfectly around Dice’s wrists, trapping him in his own hold against you. His eyes widen in shock as you easily slip out from his arms, the chains of his restraints clinking together as he tries to break free. 

“Wait a minute! Doll, what are you–”

“Easy there, tiger. I’m not gonna hurt you. I just need you to be still this time around, that’s all~” 

Setting your special box on the floor, you guide the awed showman over to the couch and sit him down, straddling his lap and pushing him back. 

“Tonight, you’re mine. Right here, in a space that’s supposed to be your own.”

“What do you mean I’m ‘yours,’ just what are you getting at here? Uncuff me right now, you little rascal!” 

You laugh mockingly at Dice’s outrage, leaning down and pulling something out of your box, holding it up and examining it. Your eyes deem the tool adequate, and you shift your position so Dice is forced to lay down, briefly uncuffing him for a moment to reposition his arms. 

Dice makes a move to launch at you and reclaim dominance once again, but you’re just slightly quicker than that. You shove your entire body weight against him, shoving him down against the soft cushion. No more funny business. Now it gets real. 

“Now you listen to me, six-sides…” You growl threateningly, grabbing his arms and forcing them above his head. The slight tremors in your husband’s form feel intoxicating against your still, confident legs as you re-cuff his wrists together, this time using your long rope to add extra security.

“You will NOT disobey me tonight, or put up any sort of fuss. You know damn well what you expect of me when you are in this position, so why do you think I should expect any less?” 

Before you can go too much further, you realize that you’ve got some fabric to remove, first. Holding the excess rope by your mouth to keep Dice in place, you rip off that goddamn suit of his, tossing his now wrinkled waistcoat, vest, slacks, and undershirt behind the couch. Tch. Pathetic pieces of cloth. 

“You're my bitch, you understand me? You're nothing but a shaking, horny little puppet. Tonight, you’re my plaything, and nothing more.” 

That tone of voice you’re using. The dirty language coming from your normally refined and polished vocabulary. Your embarrassing attempt at displaying power. Power that is supposed to belong to Dice…

How… How DARE you?! 

“Now you listen to ME, you harlot.” Dice sneers from underneath you as you make quick work of the ropes, securing his chest and torso with expert knotting before moving down to secure his feet together. “You think you can speak to me like that, here? In MY dressing room? In MY studio? In MY domain?! You have THREE seconds to remove these pathetic ropes and uncuff me, and apologize for your insolence, or I swear to Satan I will–”

SMACK!

Dice’s words are cut off with a harsh, stinging impact to his chest, and replaced by a high-pitched howl of pain. Oh, shit, that hurt. What on earth did you…

Oh. Oh, no. 

Not that. ANYTHING but that. 

“Shut your goddamn mouth, Dice.” With gritted teeth, you lean down so you’re inches from Dice’s face, waving your trusty flogger for good measure. “And don’t make me use this more than I need to, you got that? I will make that porcelain skin RIDDLED with scars, scratches, bruises, ANYTHING to make you submit to me. You don’t fucking scare me now, you bastard. You’re pathetic. And you’ll do nothing, if you want to keep your head.” 

Slowly, Dice’s mouth closes in submission, but boy, if looks could kill? You’d surely be dead. Even so, you can’t help but scoff at his death glare, feeling completely unphased at the threatening flickers of bright green his irises give off. Oh, he is pissed. 

But you could not give a damn. 

“Good boy. Now, stay nice and quiet for me, and maybe I’ll reward you instead.”

You ignore Dice’s furious grumbling under his breath as you continue tying him down to your liking, smirking at your handiwork once you finish. There’s no way he’ll be able to try any more moves on you now, not after your knotting. 

Which is great, because your next trick would be the cause for a heap of squirming…

You slowly tug down Dice’s boxers, bringing them down to his knees before putting your flogger to work once again. Except this time, it’s not to inflict any pain, but rather, something much more joyful.

Dice’s laughing, even when he might not want to, is always such a melodious sound that graces your ears. And god, there’s nothing that brings it out more than when you gently flutter your flogger’s tresses over his inner thighs. His weak spot. 

You never usually get the chance to play with your husband’s emotions like this, but watching him wriggle beneath you, trying without success to escape from your grasp? You make a mental note to do this more often. 

To ground Dice back to reality, and make another beautiful mark on his ivory flesh, you suddenly crack your tiny whip against his hip, relishing in that precious whine that you hadn’t heard in way too long. Yes. Definitely do this more often.

“H-how–! H-how dARE you! You little BRAT! S-stop thi–AGH!” 

Another blow from your tresses, to his stomach this time. As cute as he is writhing beneath you, you have no tolerance for brattiness. Not tonight.

“Watch it.” 

“MAKE me, you–AAHH!!” 

One last crack of your tool for good measure, and Dice is finally looking down for the count. Dark tears pricking the corners of his squeezed shut eyes as his eyeliner mingles with the clear liquid, his pearly whites gritted in an effort to conceal his agonized yet aroused groans. 

“Had enough?” You beckon, teasing his nipple with your free hand as you run the flogger along his sides. 

Reduced to a twitching, mumbling mess, your husband weakly nods, his cheeks red in humiliation. This… This is torture. You are evil. But yet, Dice doesn’t want you to stop. 

Alright. Maybe he can let go of his pride for one measly night.

“I… O-okay, dumpling. You got me. I-I’ll back down for tonight. JUST for tonight though, you hear me? You can have your fun for ONE night. Don’t tell me I never gave you anyth–MMH!”

Sometimes, you find that all you need to shut that blabbering mouth is to kiss it. If he weren’t being such a brat to you, you’d have half a mind to do it more often. He really tastes just delightful, when you have the chance to snag his lips right after his show. 

That cinnamon chapstick combining flavors with the leftover hints of red wine from his saliva make such a heavenly combination, even after effectively shutting Dice up, you can’t bring yourself to pull away just yet. You want to enjoy your meal, just for a bit longer.

When you finally pull away, you can't help but grin at Dice’s disappointed moan, mourning the loss of your soft lips against his own. God, he’s lucky he’s so damn cute looking like that!

“Awww, what’s the matter, princess? You looking for something?”

That disappointed look is quickly replaced by another embarrassed pout, your lover’s cheeks darkening just that much more. 

“S-shut up. I don’t want to hear it.” 

“Too bad, hun. Unfortunately, I’m not interested in what you want.” You admit in mock sympathy, running your finger down his cheek. Your hand slowly, sexily, trails down his side, manipulating him into believing your touch was for comfort before bringing your hand down on his ass, laughing softly at the pained grunt Dice tries to hide between his teeth. The tears that had threatened to fall earlier finally make their way down, leaving dark violet streaks all over his face. Absolutely beautiful. 

But there’s something else that you notice, pressing up against your leg. Something that you had been waiting for since you first started toying with him. Finally, there he is. 

“Look who’s finally coming out to play, Dicey! It seems that I’ve finally got you cracked, and what, with one spank? You mean to tell me that’s what got you hooked?”

“I s-said, sHUT UP–!”

Another spank to his reddening ass, and Dice is a whimpering, wailing puddle between your legs. God, how pathetic. He really is your perfect little slut tonight. 

“What was that, baby? I couldn’t hear you.” 

“N…Nothing, doll…”

“That’s better.” You smirk, gently pumping his hardened erection with your hand, looking him right in his pathetically watery eyes. “Now… do you want me to fuck your brains out or not?”

“...” Oh, watching that internal struggle between want and stubbornness is hilarious! The way Dice’s eyes flicker back and forth as his head leans down in thought, both sides of his brilliant mind fighting for the correct decision. You didn’t know he could be so indecisive, even when he doesn’t have that much power. 

“I don’t know if you heard my question, Dice.” You lament, your hand speeding up and gripping him twice as hard, choking out an excited screech from the quivering man beneath you.

“I said… do you want me to fuck your brains out, or NOT?!”

“Yes!! Sweetnessl, please!! I n-need you!” 

“One more time? You’ve gotta speak up, baby, I can’t hear you.”

“DOLL, PLEASE! FOR FUCK’S SAKE!!” 

“Don’t you DARE swear at me, boy!” You bellow from above him, your free hand squeezing his nipple in warning. “You BEG, and you beg NICELY, you understand?”

“Y-yes! YES! I UNDERSTAND!”

“Good.” Smirking at your success, you lower your bottoms and take a seat on his waiting cock, painfully slowly. From there, your puppet is nothing but sensual screams and praises as he finally receives what he’s been craving. 

But as with many things in Dice’s life, after adjusting to your form hugging his length, he can’t help but need more of it. And he isn’t afraid to be vocal about his desires, either. 

“B-babydoll… I…”

“Oh for hell’s sake, Dice, what? What do you want from me, hm? Go on, spit it out.” 

“I—n… I need y…” Ohh, the poor dear. You’ve rendered him speechless, it seems. 

“C’mon, use your grown-up words, sugar bear. Come on, tell me what you want.” You smile lovingly, manipulating him with your sweet sweet voice as you cup his face, wet with desperate tears. 

“I need you, my love. Please, please start moving already…”

Laughing at his helplessness, you slowly start bouncing up and down, pinning him by the shoulders as you ride his cock at a snail’s pace. You can feel it inside you, Dice is full. Dangerously full. You’re sure that once you’re finished with him, you’ll be so stuffed you might just feel queasy. 

But that’s alright, You’ll take it. You’ll take every last drop, if it means Dice will submit to you completely and cum into you at your discretion. 

That’s the key. This time around, Dice is cumming on your terms. And before you go too crazy, you need to make that known. 

“B-baby, faster! Faster, please!” 

Perfect timing, too.

“Now, Dice, you listen to me and you listen good. I’ll give you what you want, but you need to promise me something, alright?” You pause in your tracks, making sure you have Dice’s complete attention. 

After whining in despair at the cease in movement, Dice does his best to recollect himself before looking back up at you, panting heavily, a small sliver of drool running down his chin. 

“Anything, doll! Anything!! I’ll promise to beg, kiss, hell! I’ll even BARK if that’s what you want! Just say the word, and I’ll promise! But fuck, baby, if you don’t start moving again I don’t know WHAT I’ll do!!” 

“Easy there, casanova. As appealing as the thought of you barking for me might be, I only need you to do one thing.” You lean forward, your nose touching his front pip, your hot breaths mingling together to create a suffocating heat between the two of you. 

“You will NOT cum until I tell you to. Do I make myself clear?’

“CLEAR AS A DIAMOND, BABY! You have my word! Now ple–”

“Ah ah ah,” you tsk in disapproval, skeptical of his quick answer. You want him to mean it. That answer was way too quick, laced with arousal. 

“You better not be pulling my leg just to get what you want, showman. Promise me again, with meaning.” 

Dice takes in a shuddery breath, trying to get a grip before completely breaking, leaning his head back as more darkened tears stream down his blushing cheeks. He lets out a whine of despair, his eyes squeezing shut. He wants you so bad, it’s physically painful. 

“Sweetheart, I promise you, I’ll do exactly as you say! I won’t even THINK about cumming until you give me permission! I mean every word!” 

Still a bit too desperate for your taste, but you figure you’ve tortured him long enough. You run a couple fingers along the bottom edge of his face, fondly teasing him with your touch as you finally start to move your ass again, this time at a much faster and rougher pace. 

“Alright, hun, you win. As long as you keep your word, I’d say you’ve earned your fair share tonight.” 

What sounds like a simple transaction in your voice, means everything to the man pinned beneath you. Holy FUCK, you’ve started moving, and you’ve started moving quick. Yes. Yes! 

FUCK, YES! 

To hell with insisting on control! To hell with stubbornness! Damn it ALL, if it means Dice gets to feel like this, completely at your mercy! 

The man bites his lip to keep from screeching too loudly, not wanting to damage your hearing. You’re giving him exactly what he wants, even though he’s put up such a fight with you all night, the least he could do is spare your eardrums. 

But as much as Dice wants to conceal his excitement, you want him to let it all out. And in an effort to coax out his screams, you dig your nails into his shoulders and drag your fingers across his chest, the scratches from your hands hatching over the slightly scarred marks on his chest from your flogger. 

It works like a charm. Forgetting all about decency, Dice screams in pleasure, throwing his head back as you continue chasing your orgasm. His hands reflexively struggle against the restraints, the ropes and cuffs surely rubbing his skin raw. 

Not that Dice would care. With the way he’s acting over your skin crashing against his, you wonder if he even notices the pain. Probably not, since all he’s whining about is how much he loves you, and that he doesn’t want you to stop what you’re doing at all. 

Though you want to tell yourself otherwise, you can’t help but thrive off of Dice’s sweet praises as you concentrate on your rhythm. Even when he is dominant, he’s sweet to you, but when you’re in charge? It’s on a whole nother level. 

Literally, all you are doing is lifting and lowering yourself onto his dick, but your lover may as well be renewing his vows to you. It’s priceless! 

“Oh my WORD, babydoll, you’re incredible! Please don’t stop what you’re doing–GOD, just like that sugar! JUST LIKE THAT! You’re so fucking good at that rhythm, sweetheart, I should hire you as a conductor!! SHIT, RIGHT THERE! THERE, BABY!”

And he keeps on going, from there. It’s so, so adorable, you can’t help but lean forward and kiss his precious lips as you pick up your pace, pounding against him so hard the both of you start to see stars. 

His muffled shouts of pleasure, as well as the straining in his voice, let you know that he’s starting to get close. And yet, as he promised, he holds it in for you. Just as you had asked. 

Good heavens, such a good boy he’s being! 

“Mmm, baby, you’re being SO good for me, you know that? See how easy it is to be satisfied when you don’t put up such a fight? You could have had this so much sooner if you had just surrendered from the beginning!” You moan into your husband’s mouth, smiling into your kiss as Dice whimpers back in apology.

“Mmm! Mmmfh, mm… MMM!~”

“Oh, I know you’re sorry, sweet cheeks. It’s okay, I forgive you. You’re just too adorable to stay angry with!” You giggle in response to his newfound language, pulling your lips away from his and grinning at the string of saliva connecting your mouths together. Perfect. 

“I feel you getting close, baby. You remember your promise, don’t you?” 

Biting his lip so hard he almost draws blood, Dice quickly nods, doing everything in his power not to explode into you until you say the word. So obedient. It’s almost strange to you, as just half an hour ago, he was putting up such a fight. How quickly the tables can turn!

“I-I remember, doll!” 

“Good boy. Just stay like this, for a little bit longer. And then I’ll let you cum, okay? But DON’T move a muscle until I say you can cum.”

Completely tense, Dice nods in agreement, gasping for air as you continue to shove yourself onto him, finally starting to get close as well. Now this will be one of the best sensations you’ve felt in a long time. 

Starting to struggle to keep it together yourself, you lean down and bite on his shoulder, muffling your pleasured shouts as you feel your insides come close to exploding. 

Alright, You’re ready. But… 

“Dice, are you ready?”

“YES! Yes, baby, I’m ready!” 

“Are you sure you’re ready?” You can’t help but tease him one last time, smiling against his shoulder as he roars in desperation, that familiar horny rage back at full force. 

“DAMMIT, BABY! How many times do I have to FUCKING say it?! I’M READY!” 

“Watch it, mister. You might just prolong your wait if you start being a brat again.” 

Dice winces slightly in regret at losing himself, much to your amusement. He pants heavily as you continue bringing him closer to the edge, until eventually:

“CUM, DICE!” 

As soon as the words escape your lips, you feel Dice’s erection twitching as he explodes every last bit of his seed into your ass, filling you up so much even your stomach expands a little to hold it all in. The screams of euphoria that come from above your lowered head are sounds that you will hold onto until your dying days–they are perfect! 

It’s enough to push you over the edge as well, and once again you sink your teeth into Dice’s collar bone as your own fluids explode from underneath you, splattering all over Dice’s front like a work of art. A beautiful, sexy, delicious work of art. 

You finally know just what you want to give him for his reward. 

Tiredly lifting yourself off of Dic’s cock, allowing the excess seed to spill between your legs, you smile warmly at your short-winded king as you rest your hands on his knees to keep him still. And then, you let your tongue do the rest. 

Despite being out of breath, Dice finds the strength to groan in pleasure as you drag your tongue across his stomach, lapping up every last drop of fluid you can find. He lets you know just how incredible your tongue feels against his skin, wondering aloud just how you might taste. 

If he must know, you taste deliciously salty, with a hint of iron as the tiny beads of blood from his new flogger scar mingle together with your juices. It’s delicious. 

He has been good for you ever since you had started fucking him, so maybe you could give him just one more reward, right? 

Once you finish cleaning him up, making sure every ounce of liquid has been taken care of, you lean back up and press your lips back against his. Upon feeling his mouth open slightly as he gasps in surprise, you slip your tongue right inside, your taste buds connecting with his and allowing your husband to learn exactly how you taste. 

Exquisite, as far as Dice is concerned. 

While he is distracted with the different flavors happening in his mouth, you find the energy to stand completely, pulling up both your bottoms and his boxers. You quickly undo the ropes and handcuffs, feeling a little guilty at the red marks that mar his flesh. 

Being the gentleman he is, Dice doesn’t let you wallow for too long. 

“Don’t sweat it, sweetheart. I’ve put you in similar situations before. Besides, I… might be a bit of a masochist.” 

Oh, really now? 

“Hm… I’ll have to remember that for next time, then.” You tease warmly, tossing the restraints aside in favor of snuggling on top of him, smiling sleepily as your husband’s arms lazily wrap around you. 

“Mmm… as much as I hate to give up my reins again, next time can’t come soon enough.” Dice admits softly, pressing a tired kiss to the top of your head and letting out a yawn as his eyes start to flutter shut.

You both rest comfortably against each other, finding comfort in your skin’s contact. But even as you slip off into dreamland, your mind wanders, and you ponder Dice’s last statement in yearning. 

He is absolutely right, next time can’t come soon enough.

#cuphead #the cuphead show #cuphead dont deal with the devil #king dice #king dice cuphead #king dice x reader #king dice headcanons #headcanons #smut

[theagenes]

This is a late night rant about 2014 Sebastian Vettel, not my usual type of content at all but I had to get it out of my system. 🎀

I would have not particularly written this but I heard a comment about Sebastian's 2014 season and it bugged me, then I saw something very similar later that day and just thought about doing this.

Then what is it about ? Well initially, what I heard came from a commentator discussing George Russel and Lewis Hamilton's dynamic at Mercedes, and how, in their first moment driving against one another, the younger one tended to force the elder into driving a bit more desperately : to commit mistakes to try and beat their younger teammate. To this, the commentator also put the example of 2014 Sebastian Vettel and Daniel Ricciardo, which the former had seen as a threat, and as a result, had been pressured into driving poorly in 2014.

The problem I have with this is that it just highlights how little people know, and on the contrary, how much people assume, about Sebastian's 2014 season — which, arguably, is probably one of his most overlooked. It is not so much that he had a poor season that year, more than why — and you will find that it is the combinaison of many factors, most of them I thought people knew very well, but as it turns out, not so much.

Why was it such a terrible season for him then ?

First things first, I'd like to put this into perspective : we view 2014 as an “awful” season for him, if not by sheer, automatic contrast to 2013. It's not easy to have both your best and worst season follow each other in a 2 years' spawn : is it really though— his worst season ? Because it's not. Sebastian finished 5th in the driver championship that year, and stepped on a few podiums — some of them he even shared with his teammate Daniel Ricciardo.

Here he is in Singapore 2014, lifting his trophy at venue which has never failed him. 🥸

Now 5th isn't so bad, especially considering there were more drivers competing in the championship, as well as a fiercer competition. Why does it stick in our minds as such a forgettable season for him then ? Well, as we saw, 2013 was his most dominant form ever, and there is nothing more humiliating than losing a Grand Prix with the “ 1 ” sticker branded onto your every belonging : car, caps, race suit, garage ; right next to your own name.

But once that this a priori is out of the way, you will find that his 2014 season – although nowhere near his last four championship-winning years – was not simply Sebastian making silly mistakes, in the heap of the moment or born out of a rage to prove himself, because he felt threatened by his new teammate.

There are reasons behind 2014, and there are numerous.

An obvious reason, although going slightly in the same direction than what the commentator was saying – without ever reaching the same conclusion though – was that the 2014 season was all about changes for Sebastian : new regulations, new engines, new cars, new teammate : new dynamic. A change to which he adapted pretty poorly, that's undeniable, but which does not warrant for such a drastic drop of performance — when compared to 2013 or 2011, his most dominant years, but even 2012, one of the hardest fought championship he ever won, or 2010 or 2009, two championships to which he teethed and clawed at, for two very different outcomes. What I mean is that you simply do not go from breaking and setting new, unheard-of records (still unbroken, as I write this), winning 13 races out of 19, and only missing out on 2 podium finishes in an entire season, to climbing on the top of a few, scarce podiums the very next year — or at least, not without a justification.

This justification, you will find, comes into a much simpler, intertwined reason than you might think. To put it very simply, I would say “Ferrari” on one side, and “Michael Schumacher” on the other. Don't forget where we stand, and where we are : this is 2014. A few month prior, Michael Schumacher, Sebastian's greatest hero, friend and counsellor, had been drastically injured in a skying accident.

This might seem a bit foreign to us nowadays, and although we all know about his accident, do we always remember the precise date ? December 29 2013, during the winter break and somehow, both at the same time, a moment of joy and celebration for Sebastian, as well as sorrow and grief. How do you celebrate your greatest achievement in the sport of your dream, when a primordial component of this very childhood dream, your hero, fights for his life in a remote hospital ? And it's no well-hidden secret that Michael's accident dealt a terrible blow to Sebastian's mental health — he talked about it himself in interviews saying that the period which followed was one of the toughest of his life. The 2014 season cannot be extracted from its context, and the driver that got into his car this year was a man grieving, constantly ; persistently.

The third reason is very much linked to the second, as Michael Schumacher had a great impact over Sebastian's dream of ever driving shed in red. 2014 is also a turning point in Sebastian's career : both a pivot and a fulcrum, to later become an unsteady keystone. The thing is, the discussions over Sebastian ever joining Red Bull had started as early as 2008, although at this time, he had chosen to commit to Red Bull. The movement from Red Bull to Ferrari did not happen in one day, and it surely did not pop into Sebastian's mind over the spawn of a few month. It must have been there for years, simmering until he finally crossed the threshold and took a step. A move he had to make without any word of advise from the person who had made him want to join Ferrari in the first place.

The 2014 season was not so much his last year with Red Bull, more than a springboard-year before his first season with Ferrari. It was never going to be a year where Sebastian would fight for a championship, not even for wins or podiums : on the contrary, not winning with Red Bull was the only remaining necessity. His contract with Red Bull was set until the 2015-2016 season, and as we've seen in the past, a driver leaving his team is always legally managed by a contract : in order for this to happen, there has to be a clause which can break their pre-existing contract. It was the case with Daniel Ricciardo last year (2022) who was kindly thanked by McLaren in exchange of a good sum of money : that was the mandatory loophole in the contract for it to work. Similarly with Sebastian in 2014, the loophole in his contract was all about championship points. Helmut Marko talked about it after Sebastian's move from one team to the other, saying that this transaction had not came as a backstab at all, simply because it had been done in full knowledge of their team.

What do we think about it, as a whole ? Of course, I have no purpose to cast a shadow on Daniel Ricciardo's very good season in 2014 : his victories were his and he didn't rob anyone of them, nor his podiums. What I am trying to say is that there is no correlation between those two chains of event : in the same way that Sebastian losing did not help Daniel winning, Daniel winning did not make Sebastian lose. I don't think this 2014 season should be summed up as Sebastian feeling pressured by a younger teammate into making mistakes after mistakes — all the more considering his sheer streak of unluckiness and the unavoidable DNF's, engine and car failures he had no role into. Wouldn't it be pretty simplist, to link Daniel's victories to Sebastian, and wouldn't it take a bit from them ? I sincerely think that they are not linked, and that his – arguably weaker, although 5th position in the championship is no small feat if it is regarded as your very worst, considering most drivers never even win a Grand Prix, let alone make it to the top 5 of the WDC – 2014 season was about something else entirely.

Perhaps that it was less about being beaten by a teammate than saying farewell to a former team in the smoothest way possible ; for once losing sight of the championship to achieve something bigger, to try and reach for a childhood dream.

Pictures are from Motorsport Images (cr: Vettel 2014 Portrait) / Alfred Guillou - Adieu ! / - Lora Mathis - If There's A Way Out I'lI Take It / Edward John Poynter - The corner of the villa / Franz Ludwig Catel - Porch of a Church in a lunar landscape / The Guardian / Witold Pruszkowki - Falling Star / Patrick Gale - Notes from an exhibition, p.36 / Sebastian Vettel for the Daily Telegraph / Dr Helmut Marko for Sky Sports / Johan Christian Dahl - View of Dresden by Moonlight.

#web weaving #I say web weaving when really it's a RANT #‎^•ﻌ•^ฅWebweaving #sorry I got upset #I never do rants but 2014 seb is special to me #like people are SO quick to throw him under the bus #when will people get that 2014 was such a rough season for him but not for the reason they think :') #i will defend him with my life #sebastian vettel #f1 #formula 1 #red bull racing #red bull seb #red bull f1 #daniel ricciardo #red bull daniel

[nalyra-dreaming]

hi! It's been driving me crazy and I thought I'd ask an expert like you. I was curious to know what is Louis's,Armand's,Lestat's and Mauris's dark gifts? I thought maybe each vampire had a different one. Or maybe they get all the same ones as they get older. But it's been bugging me like crazy.

Hey nonny!

(thx for the compliment^^, but I think there’s lots of "experts“ here :) - but I hope I do make sense.)

Ok, a… not so much tough as a bit difficult to explain one! (Sorry it took a bit longer.) There’s also some meta woven into this, because the gifts do not really develop in a linear way.

BOOK SPOILERS AHEAD for those who want to skip this one.

So let’s break it down a bit.

Marius is a roughly 2000 year old vampire, sired by the God of the Grove. His sire exchanged blood with him several times to ensure his strength. He is also the keeper of Those Who Must Be Kept (or was) and has drunk from Akasha several times.

Armand is Marius’ fledgling, Marius hadn’t made fledglings for a while before his Amadeo, so he got quite powerful blood.

Lestat was made by a 300 year old vampire who had never made another one before. He was deemed too strong for a fledgling (ironically by Armand‘s coven). And he then went and drank from both Marius and Akasha, resulting in a severe power-up.

Louis is Lestat’s fledgling, the third one made (in the books in a relatively short time). Of those three, he is the weakest, at least at first (though he should be physically stronger than Claudia).

Now, for the details :)

Generally, all the vampires have the same capacity for their gifts. The dark gift itself (the vampiric life) comes with side effects: the mind gift, the spell gift, the cloud gift, the fire gift. There’s also an intensified version of the last one, the killing gift, which only a handful vampires hold/held. And of course "true“ immortality, no starvation or beheading etc killing you off anymore. @nijah-archive wrote a nice summary of them here.

Marius At the time of the show (book canon or Dubai do not make that much of a difference for him imho)… Marius has severe skills in mind gift, fire gift (discovered more or less by accident) and in cloud gift. He is closing in on being truly immortal. He obviously knows how to use the spell gift (he has lots of human servants and influences the habitants of an island etc) but does not use them to the extent that Armand does (for example). He is stronger than others his age because of his exposure to Akasha‘s blood.

Armand has severe powers focused on mind gift and spell gift. He is 500 years old in (book) IWTV - and spent most of that time in a cult, telling him he is a child of Satan. Others have noted it, and I do think it is likely, that he spent a lot of his time disassociating, and therefore developing these particular skills further. He can call those who wish to die, and he can trap others in illusions. He is also a master manipulator. When he encounters Lestat he immediately falls for him, and tries to win him over with a combination of threat, spell gift and mind gift, literally hurting Lestat’s lover Nicki, and trying to bind him in illusions, while force-feeding on him. (That didn’t go over well). The show gives us Armand with the cloud gift, and the ability to withstand the sun. Personally I take these simple facts (and Fareed being there, and the sheer fact that there is a MARIUS painting in the apartment) as certain hints, which would mean that Armand himself also got a certain power upgrade fairly recently. EDIT: A helpful anon pointed out that he had it after/since Memnoch, so this should be noted here. It does fit with the timeframe imho. The time itself is not "enough“ for this kind of power upgrade, supposedly it takes a few thousand years to withstand the sun. He can likely not use the killing gift, though it is highly likely that he got the access to the fire gift, too. He might also not be truly immortal yet, sun-resistance or not.

Lestat, as stated before, was turned with significant power (too). Off the bat he focuses on the physical skills though (although it might be reasoned that he just didn’t know better). When Gabrielle is turned, it is immediately apparent that she can hear the other vampires better. Lestat strains to improve his skill (and he does). He can call humans and animals to himself (mind/spell gift). He is also mentally strong enough to break out of Armand’s spell gift by sheer will. Later he regularly scans and listens in on others, and is exceptionally able to lock down his own mind completely (that has been noted several times in the books), and "rebuffs“ others mentally meaning he has significant access to the spell gift and mind gift, but/and uses it differently. The power upgrade through Marius and Akasha (IN The Vampire Lestat) did not immediately bring out the other skills for him (in the books he is simply too young), however it meant that he would survive Claudia’s attempted murder, and what happened after. Marius also showed him the telekinesis part of the mind gift. In the books, the events of Queen of the Damned leave Lestat truly immortal, and equipped with fire gift, full mind gift, and ability to withstand the sun (he tries that one out later, and then uses it for tanning ^^). Over the course of the books he drinks from other older vampires several times, as well as from… supposedly God. His strength is beyond scale, however it IS noted that he is no match in sheer physical strength for the truly ancient ones (several thousand years old). In the show… well Lestat is 130 years older (than in the books). He would have had more experience with the vampiric gifts in general, which explains (imho) why he can access the power upgrade ones. It is noted that Nicki happened over 100 years ago, which leaves a significant gap. We know he did indeed encounter Marius through the Those Who Must Be Kept mention. If Lestat went and slept (as in the books, just longer) then his blood would have distilled somewhat before Marius woke him. (Which would make Louis somewhat stronger than in the books, too (imho).) Show Lestat has the cloud gift and a very powerful mind gift/spell gift already, though it does seem as if it takes a significant amount of power still (bleeding ears and he seems weak after). Probably indicating fairly recent acquisition, which would fit with the show/book timeline and an encounter of Marius/Those Who Must be Kept just prior to coming to the US. His little trick to stop the time is actually "just“ a rather clever combination of mind gift (telekinesis) and spell gift. (As it is something that obviously can come in very handy it doesn’t really surprise me he would have developed it, bc. he is often very practical/matter-of-fact with his gifts.)

Now Louis. Supposedly Louis is one of the weakest vampires. The most human-like. And in the books he keeps the possibility of suicide-by-the-sun as a kind of trump card till Merrick, refusing several offers for ancient blood. In the show Louis says he could hear Claudia calling for help, and he does call out to her, mentally. However she is able to lock him out, instinctively, which indicates that his mind gift is not overly developed. And he apparently does not hear or notice any other vampires close by either (contrary to Lestat who can hear them on long distance). Louis also gets a severe power upgrade after/at the end of Merrick. Show/Dubai Louis quite apparently has drunk from powerful sources, Armand obviously, and maybe others. (He always had an affinity for setting things on fire, so when he demonstrated the fire gift there were lots of "uh ohs“ by book readers :))) However he obviously is not strong enough to withstand the sun and the cloud gift is also very unlikely (though not impossible as of now). As I said before it actually sets the show in a very specific time slot book-wise if we can take the shown skills as literal hints.

So in summary:

The gifts and the powers of them depend a bit on their respective usage and affinity. And the personal approach. And circumstance :)

Obviously the access (time or powerful/old blood) has to be a given, i.e. Lestat in the books only tries out the cloud gift after knowing he has it.

It’s practice IF and WHEN you can.

And, it depends where you put the focus. Lestat also knows the killing gift because Akasha taught him in order for him to serve her. But it’s a skill based on the mind gift and fire gift.

Louis barely has any gifts for a long time because Lestat tries to keep him as human as possible, for a lot of reasons. It will be interesting to see if the show addresses that. Him developing (or adopting) the fire gift with the power through blood is not surprising, unfortunately (coughs).

If we (hopefully) get our seasons we will likely get more displays of these skills, too.

I, personally, like the way they approach them very, very much. And they also fit for me with the adapted timelines. Hope this made sense to you! Please don't hesitate to ask if you have further questions!

#asks #thank you nonny #vampire powers #vampire gifts #the vampire chronicles #iwtv #interview with the vampire #lestat de lioncourt #louis de pointe du lac #armand #marius de romanus #akasha #the vampire lestat #queen of the damned #merrick #fire gift #spell gift #mind gift #dark gift #cloud gift #book spoilers #iwtv meta #ask nalyra

[camillahex]

okay i've been thinking a lot about the rat grinders (abbreviated as rgs) and here are my ideas on the different roles they could have this season and an analysis of their appearance so far (putting this under a read more bc it got long)

major antagonists - the rat grinders are directly involved/responsible for whatever the big bad is this season. something like they are causing the quangles in order to get aguefort to leave school and take over w/ Grix to change everything to be hyper rules oriented in order to fuck over the bad kids or take over the world or whatever the big bad actually ends up being. quite frankly, i don't think this is at all likely and it wouldn't make for a very good story imo

minor antagonists - not directly in league w bb but indirectly a part of the problem. one theory i've seen around is they have somehow reprorammed grix (potentially with henry the artificer teacher who has the same last name as the rg bard) and are trying to change the school bc they are fed up w agueforts loosey-goosey ness (this is mainly based on kipperlilly) and they tangentially aid the big bad by doing this as well. i think this is more likely and could be good depending on how it unfolds

antagonistic but not antagonists - feud stays purely in the academic/school life. the rgs maybe show up the bad kids a little, do better than them in classes or at sports, take some of the wind out of their popularity (like at this now abandoned party), maybe kipperlilly even wins pres - but it's not deeper than just being the school worsties of the bad kids

reluctant allies - kind of plays off previous; rgs and bad kids end up having to work together at various points and even battle together (maybe for like the big finale battle) bc they can recognize that saving the world id more important than their school feud

genuine understanding - also plays off previous two; interactions lead to interpersonal conflict at first but through being forced to work and battle together they each begin to see that there is more to the other. bad kids acknowledge that rgs have a lot of raw skill and strength in their own right (as already evidenced by mary ann's athletics and kipperlilly's inplied rogue abilities) and that it takes a lot of dedication and (especially) discipline to work as a party killing rats for three hours every day. rgs acknowledge that large-scale adventuring requires a certain loose attitude for the "rules" and that having being specifically subject to arthur aguefort's chaos may not necessarily be a good thing

now, narratively speaking, i think the rat grinders as a party will have immense specific strength and skills, but will not be prepared for more "real" life or death battles. improvisation really is the better part of planning (thanks calroy) and a plan never survives first contact with the enemy, but they likely have not needed to create complex, or on the fly plans, or improvise when the bad guy throws out some insane shit, while simply killing tens of thousands of rats, spiders, and tree gremlins. none of those beasts would have taught them how to practically deal with ranged weapon attacks or any kind of spell attack, and i could also see them not being the best with playing to each others strengths and covering each others' weaknesses due to the sheer monotony of only ever battling the exact same creatures. i'd also be surprised if they have any experience at all with genuinely dying and having to be revived or even with going into unconsciousness. i do think classes go over that kind of thing but learning the theory of something and then actually having to apply it under pressure are two radically different experiences.

one thing that could complicate this is that the rgs have recently gotten a new cleric party member, who we know is a transfer from highcourt, helioic, and loved by kristen's parents (as an aside, this is going to be so juicy and cause so much conflict w kristen, i'm so excited). clerics are pretty vital for parties going on intense adventures, being the strongest healers of the group, so there are two ways i see a cleric introduction as having to occur. one, is that the rgs have never had a cleric and spending your days killing low level creatures likely does not create much in the way of life threatening scenarios or injuries a long rest couldn't heal. and now that they feel they're strong enough, they want to move to more extreme adventures and feel they need a cleric to make it work

however, option two is that the rgs did have a cleric, and that at some point their cleric fully died. as we've learned, parties who have a member die immediately go on pass/fail and don't have to do a yearly project. if this happened to the rgs last year (or maybe even their first year, i forget if the pass/fail was only through the year or not) they would not have had to do the sophomore year project, and it would explain how they've manages to keep only killing low level creatures. also, this could be especially narratively significant, because, the bad kids had party members die on their very first day of school, one of which was their cleric kristen. they were only revived by aguefort committing ritualistic murder-suicide to bring them back to life. this could definitely read as preferential treatment from aguefort, even though the bad kids could have been anyone and aguefort was just doing his own plan to sneak into heaven and stop being poisoned. a dead cleric would be another level of parallel the rgs would have with the bad kids and could be an aspect of their resentment.

on a more meta/symbolic level, i feel like the rgs, and in particular kipperlilly and her campaign spiel, are representative of an intensely regimented, regulated education system where everyone must do the exact same things, get the exact same help, and all be measured on the exact same axes of success, in a very standardized testing kind of way. now, abstractly, in a vacuum, in a perfect world, this is fine; this is equal treatment under the rules. but the realities on life and people are messy and complex. there's any number of reasons why someone might need more help, different accommodations, and be measured on a different metric of success than someone else and none of it makes it preferential treatment; it's just that everyone has different needs. the solution should always be more diversity in accessibility, not less.

and to bring it back to the narrative, we've been told that adventurers, and by extension the students of the adventuring academy, are basically vigilantes doing, uh, extralegal vigilantism. a regimented system based on grinding out experience by killing rats in the woods would in no way produce successful adventurers, just like really strong exterminators. the things the bad kids have gotten in trouble doing are things it has been explicitly said they are supposed to be doing ad burgeoning adventurers, and the only reason they got in trouble in the first place and weren't allowed to do their thing solving mysteries (as presumably, many many parties before them have done) was because aguefort was missing. even when adaine was kidnapped by fallinel, the school protections she invoked protects all of aguefort's students. we have heard many times that students throughout the adventuring academy's history have been encouraged to act as the extralegal vigilantes they are training to be, and haven't seen anything that suggest it's only been selectively applied to favorites

ultimately, i hope that the realization develops that the school has been failing both the rat grinders and the bad kids. we haven't seen a lot of the rat grinders but based on kipperlilly's complaints i think it would be a failure in a lack support in helping the students find their own adventures (as opposed to just keeping on going killing rats in the woods) and/or a lack of protection for when they bite off more than they could chew (if they did in fact have a cleric who died). for the bad kids, it would be a lack of support and accommodation for when you do find a big adventure and can't keep up with schoolwork, a failure to recognize and interfere when you see students struggling before it reaches a critical breaking point (kristen and fig being close to expulsion), a lack of support wrt university funds/scholarship or required school supplies funding (riz and adaine), a refusal to recognize when students exceed in ways outside of the typical curriculum (gorgug and fabian).

the enemy is the system, not your fellow classmates

#fhjy #fantasy high meta #c.hex posting #ive seen a potential connection to be made about the rgs as characters symbolizing kinds of players who are frustrating to play with #like solely by the book person who hates any improvisation or 'rule breaking' (kipperlilly); gratuitously 'edgy' nihlistic player who doesn #care about anything (ruben); super maxxed out stat player who doesn't do any roleplay (mary ann) #but i'm not super into that. i think kipperlilly and ruben are just annoying in very stereotypically high school kid ways and mary ann is #just reticent (and autistic) and i love her!!!

[bourbonificould]

Molly vs S4 Lilly

Cool matchup I'd say

First for Molly, she's very agile and smart, picking out weakness or those who think they're clever. It's evident that she's no slouch physically, and you can only assume that she'd get more skilled in the 8 years between S1 and S4 bar severe injury.

Lilly has grown into a ruthless, skilled and smart opponent by this point in the apocalypse. She's tactically sound (usually, the school was kinda unpredictable), and has a good set of skills on her. She's also probably around 4 inches taller than Molly is, and in a 1v1, was definitely beating Clementine until AJ's interventions.

While I have to give Molly the benefit of the doubt for only having such little time on screen, the only real fight she has is finished in like 10 seconds and it's character determinant. Lilly has a relatively easy time with Clementine despite her will power, but I think that Molly is definitely quicker and better physically than Clem is, but we never seen her face REAL adversity. Lilly fights through AJ's bite (which are clearly really strong), a knife in her thigh and some force from Clem.

I'd say Lilly wins, considering her military training and sheer size and ability, but by no means is Molly a pushover.

#twdg #the walking dead game #twdg lilly #molly twdg

[pudding-parade]

OK, I'm sorry for posting about politics. Truly. I'll post something sims-related later to make up for it. But for me this is local politics, and Ken Buck -- a man with whom I vehemently disagree, politically, but whom I respect for his commitment to democracy and his stance on the 2020 election not being stolen and for his continuing denouncement of the January 6th insurrection despite things like death threats made against himself and his family by MAGA loonies -- has made my day today. I have literally (and I mean that in the true sense of the word) been spending my afternoon/evening periodically chortling from sheer schadenfreude, so I just have to memorialize this and hope that I don't have to eat my words in November.

For context, or for non-USians, or for just the (slightly) shorter version if you don't want to look at the article....

Lauren Boebert, a super-"MAGA" fascist, is, depressingly, my current representative in the US House of Representatives. She only barely won reelection in 2022 despite the fact that, while I live in a very blue, hippie spot of it, the district has historically leaned heavily conservative because most of the district is made up of very Christian rural ranchers, who are conservative, yes, but in their case, generally speaking, traditionally so. They're mostly not the weird, Trump-flag-waving, MAGA-cult breed of it. So, Bobo only won reelection in 2022 by a few hundred votes and, since then, Adam Frisch, the centrist (which, by non-US standards, is right-wing) Democrat who opposed her and is running again, has only gotten more popular, as the House has proceeded to get absolutely nothing done, despite having a majority, precisely because of the shenanigans of MAGA idiots like Bobo.

So, Bobo decides that for the 2024 election, she'll instead run for the district east of mine, which was Mr. Buck's and which is even more conservative. She announced this decision right after Mr. Buck announced that he was retiring and would not be running for reelection. It was obvious that Bobo figured that that district would be a much easier win than the traditionally conservative district she very nearly lost.

But just today, Mr. Buck announced that instead of staying in Congress until this coming January, he's out as of this coming Friday. Which forces a special election in his district to fill his seat until January. Our (Democrat) state governor announced that that election will on the 25th of June, which is by law the longest delay possible, thus leaving Mr. Buck's seat empty until then, thus eroding the Republicans' majority until then. And if Bobo wanted to enter that special election, she'd have to resign from her current seat immediately because you can't be a sitting congressperson for one district and run for and be elected in another. Bobo has announced that she's not going to give up her current seat. And, for various reasons, all of this means that her chances of winning Buck's district in the regular election in November are now worse. And, she can't change her mind and run for reelection in the regular election for her current district, even if she wanted to, because the deadline for entering that election has recently passed.

So basically it's (probably) bye-bye Bobo! (And probably hello, Mr. Frisch for me, and while I'd be happier with a progressive, I'll take a centrist over a MAGA idiot any day.) And also? Mr. Buck, who has publicly stated that his party no longer aligns with his values, has not only screwed Bobo with his well-timed decision to "spend more time with his family," but also Mike "Christian Nationalist Fascist" Johnson, the Speaker of the House -- who, as the icing on the cake, was not informed of Mr. Buck's decision in advance of the announcement of it -- as his parting gift to MAGA.

Why? Because the Republicans now have a majority of just four or five seats, and, from next Friday until July, when Mr. Buck's (most likely Republican but perhaps not MAGA) successor will be sworn in, they now have one less, with the next election only eight months away and at a time when the Repugs need all hands on deck, so to speak, if they have any hope of getting anything at all done and, therefore, of having anything "positive" (by the conservative definition of that word) that they can talk up and run on from now until November. I'm pretty sure this big "screw you" was Mr. Buck's intention before he announced even his original retirement plans, so...Well played, Mr. Buck. Well. Played.

The question is: Will other House Republicans with integrity (there are a few left) follow Mr. Buck's lead? Could we see the House change majority before the 2024 election? It's not likely, but it's possible! And either way, this one conservative man dealt a blow to the MAGAs today, and I, as an extreme leftie, am here for it.

#non sims #oh no! #US politics #i swear US politics is a goddamn soap opera now #it would be entertaining as hell #if people's rights hadn't been lost/put in jeopardy because of people who share Bobo's views

[amazingmsme]

So, You Give Up?

AN: First fic of the year & yet another commission! Huge thanks to @ulitmatelee19 Just some classic sibling antics with Nancy & Mike. Let me know if you want a commission!

The Wheeler siblings didn't always exactly get along, especially when they were younger. Oddly enough, it took the end of the world as they knew it to bring them together and learn to trust one another. And then their world kept crashing down around them. But there were calm periods amidst the chaos, and the pair had grown not quite fond of each other's company, but tolerant.

Yeah, tolerant was the right word: at least for Mike.

They were in the basement watching the Wizard of Oz and Dorthy had just set out on the yellow brick road. When she came across the Scarecrow, Nancy smirked and looked over at Mike, nudging him with her elbow. He looked at her expectantly.

She pointed at the screen and proudly proclaimed, "Look, it's you." Mike rolled his eyes and shoved her.

"Shut up, I look nothing like that," he grumbled. Nancy nodded in agreement.

"Hm, you're right... You look more like a flying monkey." She threw her head back with a laugh as he leaned into the arm of the couch, using his leverage to kick at her with both legs.

"Shut up! Don't make me kick your ass!" he threatened, but that just made her laugh harder.

"I'd love to see you try," she challenged.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah!"

"Alright, but don't say I don't warn you!" He didn't wait for an answer before lunging at her, hands reaching out to tug her hair. She managed to grab both of his wrists, kicking her legs out to further keep Mike at bay.

His feet dug into the couch cushions for leverage as he tried to bulldoze his way over her with little success. How the hell could someone so skinny be so strong? Then again, he was one to talk.

She brought one leg up to his chest and pushed hard, sending him flying back to his side of the couch. She gave a triumphant little "hmph" and turned back to the TV with a smirk.

"Hey that's not fair! I wasn't ready!"

She scoffed and looked at him from the corner of his eye. "You're the one who started it," she pointed out.

"You had an unfair advantage," he argued.

"I was under you!"

"And you kicked me off!"

Nancy turned her attention back to the screen, biting the inside of her cheek to keep her grin at bay. "You're ridiculous."

"I want a rematch," he demanded, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Why? So I can kick your ass again?" she mocked.

"It won't happen again," he muttered under his breath, leveling her with a glare. She rolled her eyes and sighed, standing up.

"Alright then, tough guy. Gimme your worst," she goaded, coaxing him over with her hand. He stared at her incredulously.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

It was a stalemate: the room so quiet you could hear a pin drop. As if psychically linked, they lunged for each other at once.

Mike placed his hands on her shoulders, pushing against her with all his might. She pushed against him, but was unable to hold her ground. Her socked feet slid backwards across the carpet, offering little to no traction. Mike was smirking down at her, which only fueled her fire to win. He was all too cocky, and she wanted nothing more than to put him in his place.

She wouldn't be able to win by sheer force, that much was certain. She'd have to be craftier if she wanted to come out on top. She glanced down, noticing his long, lanky legs take a step closer to her. Perfect.

She kicked one leg behind him, shoving her heel against the back of his knee, knocking his legs out from under him and sent him tumbling to the ground. She pumped a fist in the air, enjoying the small victory as she wiped away sweat with the other.

"I win," she declared breathlessly, brushing her bangs away from her forehead. She reached a hand out to help her brother to his feet.

He slapped the offered hand away, glaring up at her. "That's a cheap move." A mix between a scoff and a laugh fell past Nancy's lips.

"Are you serious right now? I won fair and square!" she said, defending her honor. Mike rolled his eyes, looking away. She squatted down to be at his level.

"I think someone's just a sore loser," she teased. Mike's face scrunched up in disgust.

"I am not!"

"Yeah? Prove it then!" she taunted, playfully shoving at his shoulder. In his pissy demeanor, he jerked back before she even touched him, causing her fingers to land in the crease between his arm and ribs. A strangled laugh escaped his throat as he fell back on the floor.

Nancy's eyes flashed with dangerous mischief as she cocked a brow at her brother.

"Nancy. Don't," he warned.

"Say you're a sore loser."

Mike's glare only intensified. "Hell no!"

She shrugged, mock sympathy overtaking her features. "Whatever. Your funeral."

Mike didn't have a chance to get away before Nancy tackled him right there on the floor, pinning him on his back. She wasted no time before digging her hands under his arms. He screeched and slammed his arms to his sides, trying to block out the feeling. Not that it really worked, but it's the thought that counts.

"Q-quit ihihit!" he whined, already curling into a ball on his side. Nancy smirked as she spidered her fingers down his sides and across his stomach as she hummed in contemplation, cocking her head to the side in thought.

"You know what? I don't think I will," she said matter of factly. Mike whined through his laughter, trying to swat her hands away to no avail. He managed to yell out a quick, "You suck!" in between bouts of laughter.

Nancy scoffed in dismay and placed a hand on her chest. "Excuse me?"

"You heard mehehe!" he sassed, despite knowing it would be his downfall.

Something playful yet dangerous flashed in her eyes and for a moment she smirked before setting her jaw. She leaned back and cracked her knuckles, the sound causing her brother to break down into pleading giggles.

"Plehease, I'm sohohorry!"

"Sorry's not good enough." Then, she dove right back in for the ribs.

"Nothihihing's ehever good enough fohohor you! Shihihit, I didn't mehehean thahat!"

She pinched each rib one by one, taking note of every twitch, gasp, and snort mingling with his laughter. "Take it back you little shit!" she demanded, but her tone was lighter than expected.

"Okay, okahahay, I tahake it bahahack!" he quickly yielded, but the tickling didn't stop. "Nahahancy, Ihi'm sorry," he repeated, in case she couldn't make it out the first time.

"Okay, good. Now say you're a sore loser,"

"What? No way!" he cried defiantly. She shrugged.

"Whatever you say." She scratched over his ribcage, kneading his sides as she traveled down. When she latched onto his hips, all hope was lost. He bucked his hips, trying to throw her off balance, but it seemed she was firmly planted.

She  drilled her thumbs in circles directly over the bone, effectively driving him insane. Still, her hands continued on their journey until they latched onto his knees.

He snorted and immediately started kicking like mad, head thrown back in wild hysterics. He couldn't remember the last time Nancy had played around with him like this. Hell, he couldn't remember the last time anyone had.

Long nails scribbled over his kneecaps, drawing out a loud snort. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, so with nothing else to do, he buried his flushed face in hide hands.

She gave him a thorough once over and decided to grant him a show of mercy.

"Alright, I guess you've learned your lesson." Relief immediately washed over him. "Right after this." Relief than vanished just as quick as it had appeared.

Needless to say, it was a lesson he wouldn't soon forget.

#commission #nancy wheeler #mike wheeler #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things tickle fic #ticklish!mike

[grox-empire]

ANOTHER propaganda post for @voidspace-bubble's spore tourney.

GROX SWEEP BABYYYY!

There is a reason my blog is themed around them. There is a REASON my fursona, Who I own a fursuit of, is a Grox. There is a FUCKING REASON they are one of few holdovers from Spore in daybreak. I am SO autistic about them you have no idea. Spore in general is my special interest but something about these little guys specifically just has me ENTRALLED.

They're the big bads of spore. The main villains of space stage. They're built up from the beginning of space stage and are a major obstacle even towards the endgame. You can either ally with them, Which is far easier to do but comes with MANY penalties... Or take on the grueling task of wiping out their entire empire, Which is roughly 2000 planets large and circles the galactic core. And they are one of my absolute FAVORITE parts of the game. First off, The way they're built up. They're built up as a big, scary empire. the antithesis to life. But then you meet them and they fucking LOOK LIKE THIS

Which??? Can I just say. Is fucking IMMACULATE. The sheer contrast with how these guys are described and how they actually LOOK is just... amazing. They're built up as a force to be reckoned with, Everyone is TERRIFIED of them... And yet when you actually meet them? They're short, impish, vaguely cat-like aliens with the saddest, wettest eyes you have ever seen, And incredibly low-level parts at that. The best part? They do genuinely live up to their reputation, Too! I definitely know a lot of people aren't a fan of their design because it's not scary or threatening enough but I personally think the sheer contrast between how they look and what they are makes them MORE scary. What would drive something like that to this point? And that's not even taking into account how goddamned fun they are to draw and stylize. Due to their design being pretty simplistic you can interpret it in many ways... I personally see them as vaguely cat-like, Child-sized humanoid aliens with short fur, But i've met several people out there who see them totally different to how I do. It's VERY interesting.

Second of all, The sheer amount of PERSONALITY these little guys have while you talk to them. Spore's dialogue is great and highly underrated but The Grox? Honestly they're just... The absolute PEAK of what spore's writing can be like. They're super fucking charming. Like there's CLEARLY so much more to them than what you see on the surface... But unfortunately because spore is spore and worldbuilding isn't their top priority, You never really learn what their deal is beyond what is shown to you. But that doesn't stop me and MANY others from having headcanons! I have a whole BOATLOAD of headcanons that I am fucking refraining from talking about here since... This isn't about my own version of them that i've come up with in my head, this is about how they are in canon spore. That IS to say, though... If anyone is interested in hearing more about that please for the love of god LET ME KNOW I could go on for HOURS about my thought on these guys

I'm tired as fuck and this probably sounds SO incoherent because I have so many thoughts that i'm unable to articulate, But i'm so autistic about these guys especially. They're genuinely one of my favorite fictional characters of all time and I really want other people to be able to appreciate them too ^^ They're definitely the creature I would personally like to win the poll. I know it's a pretty damn obvious choice but these little guys genuinely mean a lot to me and I don't think i'd really be the same person I am now without them. I've been fixated on them since like... 2019?? and it's lead me to creating my passion project which I plan on sticking to for years to come.

So, To make a long story short? GROX SWEEP!

#spore #grox #spore creatures tournament #propaganda post