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#i could have put more effort into the details
undeadcourier · 2 days
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Ghouls are, put simply, humans suffering from advanced, prolonged radiation sickness and whose bodies have mutated such that gamma radiation extends their lifespan past natural limits.
The process of ghoulification is outlined in canon sources, but I wanted to make a guide that goes into more detail on the effects of radiation sickness in various cases, since the level and type of exposure significantly affects the outcome.
This is the first in what will be a series of posts exploring both real-life cases of radiation sickness and the sci-fi concept of ghoulification in some depth. Graphic descriptions of the physical deterioration of the body are included for informative purposes; reader discretion is advised.
For this first case study, I examine the effects on the human body of exposure to high levels of radiation in a short period of time, with a focus on the real case of Hisashi Ouchi.
On September 30, 1999, a lack of appropriate safety measures and the proper materials resulted in an accident that caused three workers at the nuclear power plant in Tōkai-mura, Japan, to suffer from severe radiation poisoning while purifying reactor fuel.
Point of Criticality
An uncontrolled fission reaction was produced when technicians poured nearly seven times the legal limit of uranium oxide into an improper vessel containing nitric acid. The men reported seeing a bright blue flash—indicative of Cherenkov radiation—when the mixture reached critical mass, flooding the room with radiation. The workers evacuated to the decontamination room, but already, the two who had been handling the reactive solution were overcome with intense pain from radiation burns, severe nausea, and difficulty breathing. Hisashi Ouchi, who suffered the highest level of exposure, also experienced rapid difficulties with mobility and coherence. Upon reaching the decontamination room, he vomited and fell unconscious.
~1 Hour Post-Exposure
Ouchi regained consciousness in the hospital about 70 minutes after the criticality accident, where doctors confirmed that he had been exposed to high doses of gamma, neutron, and other radiation.
The maximum allowable annual dose of radiation for nuclear technicians in Japan was 50 millisieverts. Exposure to more than 7 sieverts is considered fatal. Yutaka Yokokawa, the supervisor, had received 3 sieverts. The technicians who had been handling the uranium, Masato Shinohara and Hisashi Ouchi, received 10 sieverts and 17 sieverts, respectively.
~1 Day+ Post-Exposure
During the first few days in the ICU, Ouchi appeared to be in remarkably good condition, given the circumstances: the skin of his face and right hand was slightly red, as if by a sunburn, and swollen. His eyes were bloodshot, and he reported pain under his ear and right hand, which had received the most direct exposure, but he could speak normally, and he joked with the doctors and nurses attending to him.
6 Days Post-Exposure
Tests revealed that the high energy radiation that Ouchi had been exposed to had obliterated the chromosomes in his bone marrow. They were unrecognizable—some severed, some fused, all out of order. This damage meant that his body was unable to create new blood cells. The red blood cells that transport oxygen could not be replaced, and Ouchi's white blood cell count was near zero, leaving him extremely vulnerable to infection.
~1 Week+ Post-Exposure
Intensive treatments, including numerous skin grafts, blood and bone marrow transfusions, and revolutionary stem cell transplants were conducted in an attempt to stabilize Ouchi, but ultimately without lasting success.
The skin grafts couldn't hold; when medical tape was peeled from his skin, his skin came with it, and the marks left behind couldn't heal. Blisters like those of a burn appeared on his right hand.
Ouchi reported frequently that he was thirsty.
~10 Days Post-Exposure
By this point, Ouchi's oxygen levels were so low that even speaking required tremendous effort. Ouchi was placed on supplemental oxygen and required sedatives to be able to sleep.
2 Weeks+ Post-Exposure
Ouchi was no longer able to eat and required an IV. By day sixteen, most of the skin on the front side of his body had fallen off.
His low platelet count and lack of healthy skin meant that his blood and bodily fluids leaked through his damaged pores, resulting in unstable blood pressure.
Donor stem cells that were meant to allow his body to create new tissue were also destroyed by the radiation present in his body.
~1 Month Post-Exposure
On the 27th day following the accident, Ouchi suffered from intense diarrhea. The mucus layer of his large intestine had vanished, exposing the red submucosal layer beneath. His body could no longer disgest or absorb anything he ingested; even water was excreted as diarrhea.
The skin of Ouchi's right hand was almost entirely gone, leaving the surface of his hand raw and dark red. Blisters spread across his right arm and abdomen, then over his entire body. Gauze was required to replace his skin, and his fingers had to be individually wrapped to prevent them from sticking together. Without skin to keep him warm, Ouchi required an electrothermic device to maintain his body temperature while his bandages were changed—a daily procedure that took hours. Every time the gauze was removed, more of Ouchi's remaining skin went with it. His eyelids could not shut, and his eyes bled. His nails fell off.
Ouchi's right arm was necrotizing, leading to an increasing amount of myoglobin—a protein in muscle tissue—flowing in Ouchi's blood. Untreated, this could result in renal failure as the kidneys could not process the amount of myoglobin present.
Ouchi's body could not regenerate the platelets that form scabs, meaning the risk of hemorrhage was extreme.
By day 50, more than two liters of fluid seeped from Ouchi's damaged skin each day. The amount of fluid prevented skin grafts from adhering. Furthermore, he began to suffer from blood in his stool, and permeated blood seeped between his inflamed small and large intestines.
2 Months+ Post-Exposure
On the 59th day after the accident, Ouchi suffered the first of many heart attacks. His kidneys and liver were also failing. He no longer showed reactions to stimuli.
By day 63, Ouchi's macrophages—the immune cells that normally attack and consume bacteria and viruses—were attacking his own healthy blood cells.
After 67 days, Ouchi suffered internal hemorrhage. He bled from his mouth and intestines.
Ouchi would continue to suffer from heart attacks, as many as three in one hour. Each time, he was revived, but he suffered increasing brain damage, until multiple organ failure ended his life after 83 days in the hospital.
Ouchi's colleague Masato Shinohara underwent numerous successful skin grafts and a stem cell transfusion as well as radical cancer treatment, but he, too, died of multiple organ failure after seven months. Their supervisor, Yutaka Yokokawa, was treated for minor radiation sickness and was released from the hospital within three months of the accident.
This detailed chronology was referenced from the book A Slow Death: 83 Days of Radiation Sickness by Iwanami Shoten, translated by Maho Harada. My post, of course, focuses on Ouchi's physical condition in his final months, but it’s important to remember him not just as a victim or a patient. He was a loving husband and father whose sense of humor and resilience left an impression on everyone he came into contact with. The book is available in its entirety here and provides a moving, nuanced account of the incident and the efforts to save Ouchi's life.
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bendycxmet · 2 days
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Pierced—Vash the Stampede
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Summary: How did Vash get that hoop in??
Word Count: ~1.2k
Pairing: gn!reader x Vash the Stampede
Content: fluff, a lil angsty, Vash deserves his sense of self ok
a/n: @aboveweirdest gave me this wonderful idea while we were analyzing this man to death! tyty was thinking about this when i got another helix piercing done recently so i whipped this up before bed
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In recent days, you’ve seen Vash eyeing you. At least, more than what is normal. It was unsettling everytime you felt his gaze on you whenever you tried passing the time by creating something out of scraps you found into jewelry, specifically earrings. 
For instance, he was doing it now, as your hands worked the small pliers expertly to transform a piece of gold wire into a hoop. You either usually pierce your own ears with your creations, or sell them in town for some extra cash you both could use for bullets or food. Vash wishes he could be as good as you on the artsy side, but you always remind him that he is good with his hands. No one can beat him in marksmanship.
“Like what you see there, gunman?” you tease, side eyeing him for a split second. Caught in the act, Vash blushes a lovely red that reaches the tip of his ears. You love getting a rise out of him.
“Do you wanna learn? Is that it? Because you’ve been a little too curious these past couple of days.”
“Mm.. ‘s not that. I just… How many piercings do you have?” 
The question comes out of nowhere for you. You think it’s obvious, since mostly all of them are on your ears. Doing mental math, you count what you have on your ears.
“Uh, around 11? I’m thinking of doing more, but we’ve been too busy lately.”
He simply nods, humming to himself as he visibly thinks through your answer. 
“Why do you pierce your ears?” You quirk your eyebrow at him. “Don’t mean that in an offensive way!” He quickly puts his hands up, offering a sign of peace. You laugh at his gestures. “I just been noticing lately that your usual customers are people with loads of piercings, and I never gave it much thought before to get one of my own, but I think…they look so cool on others. They seem so happy with them too, expressing themselves without even saying a word.”
Your hands still at his words, something dropping in your stomach and twisting at his solemn expression. Vash never revealed much about his past, and you never probed him further. Anytime anything connected to his past came up, you could clearly tell whatever happened had left its scars on him, physically and mentally. You respected his decision to close up those details, and reminded him that whenever, if ever, he was ready to share that load with you, you would be there.
You look back down at the gold hoop in your hands, an idea coming to mind. You quickly add the finishing touches, putting a little more effort into it as it was for someone special now. 
“Hey, what do you think of this?” You hold up the hoop to Vash’s eyes, catching the glimmer in his eyes at your recent creation, like that of a thief spotting expensive items through a window. Greed and envy swirling together.
“It’s beautiful! You always amaze me with how you turn a piece of trash into such a pretty object. That one’s gonna sell fast Mayfly!” You warm at his praise and nickname for you. His confidence and support for your skills potentially outweighed yours for how he handled his gun.
Yet, you can’t stand the fake smile he plasters on his face, masking the jealousy he feels for the future owner of the golden hoop.
“Think I’m gonna sell it for free. It’s for someone close to me.” Vash simply cocks his head to the side. You roll your eyes at his obliviousness. “How about letting me pierce your ear for you?”
The change in his demeanor is quick. He straightens his back, eyes shining brightly, nodding eagerly at you. “I’m in your hands!”
Grabbing a small threading needle from your kit, you order him to sit close to you on motel bed. Cleaning your hands and the needle, you search his face, looking for any signs of regret. 
“You sure about this? Do you know where you want it?”
He’s pensive for a moment, eyes looking past you. He hums, pointing at his left lobe. How perfect, you think, same side as his cute little mole. 
You fidget, rethinking piercing his ear. You’ve only ever pierced yourself, so now that you have someone else in front of you, you feel like a total amateur. 
“Hey. Get out of your head there. I know what you’re thinking.” Vash’s voice breaks through your brain fog. He wraps his hand around your raised arm, poised and ready to pierce him. He gently tightens his hold on your waist. “I trust you.” You feel your heart twinge at the soft vulnerability in his eyes.
“Ok, this will be a slight pinch. I know you’re used to pain-” you interject, noting his slightly raised eyebrow, silently telling you been there done that. “-but just follow my rules. Ok, breathe in for me.” You raise the needle to his ear. “And breathe out.” As you feel his breath ghost your arm, you push the needle as quickly as you can through his ear, quickly adding the hoop to his ear. 
You turn around to wash your hands. “And there you go! Your first piercing ever! Crazy, considering that you’re like 150- hey don’t touch-” you catch him as he’s going to finger his new piercing, staring straight at the mirror on the vanity opposite the bed. The warning dies in your throat at the sight of him nearly in tears.
“I…I love it,” he says in a warbled voice.
“Oh Vash, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you? I really tried to be careful. Always with you.” You sit beside him, leaning onto his shoulder, rubbing his back in comfort. He sniffs. 
“It’s not you. It’s just…this is the first time I feel like I’ve done something for myself. I feel like my own person. With just a hoop.” Wet tears trail down his cheeks. You press your fingers to his cheeks, wiping his tears. You know how he’s been burdened with his past, no doubt still feeling the shadow of his brother and the destruction that’s come from his actions. Perhaps this earring meant more than you could ever imagine, perhaps it finally binded him to the present, and to his own future that he can create. 
“You’ve always been Vash to me. Never your brother. Just you. Vash the Stampede. The most amazing gunman to ever walk into my life.” He turns to you, wrapping his arms around you and pressing his face into your neck.
“Thank you. Now, I feel like everyone else. Maybe they can see me as one of them. Not this humanoid disaster.” You nuzzle into him, hands returning to their rubbing against his back.
“You look nice by the way. It suits you really well. The gold complements your blue blue eyes,” you tease, hoping to get a chuckle out of him. 
He pecks your cheek, another thank you from him. He presses his face tighter to you, jolting suddenly. “Ow!”
“Yeahh, it’s gonna be a bit tender for a bit.” 
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masterlist
divider by saradika
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joelalorian · 3 days
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Fall Into Me - Chapter Eight: We'll Dance in the Street like Nobody's Watching
dbf!Joel x f!reader
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Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.
Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.
Word Count: 3.8k
Chapter Warnings: Explicit, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. Lots of feelings, unprotected p in v, flirting, dads being dads. Two idiots falling in love and finally fucking admitting it. Joel is his own warning. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname used only by her dad and Joel uses various terms of endearment (darlin', sweetheart, etc.).
This chapter includes the scene that sparked the entire story idea. I've been patiently waiting for it to see the light of day. hope you enjoy!
Thank you so much to everyone who reads this self-indulgent story and extra thanks to those who comment and/or reblog - you all make me feel like a rock star!
Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics
Chapter Seven | Main Masterlist
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“So, how was it?” Grilling you for the past twenty minutes, Emily was relentless in her pursuit to find out just how good Joel was in bed, after congratulating you on the new job, of course. “Come on! I need to know!”
“Alright, alright! I had no idea you were such a needy bitch. Is your hubby not dicking you down enough or what?” you laughed before regaling her with tales of Joel’s prowess.
“I fuckin’ knew he’d be big and know how to use it! He just gives off that BDE, ya know what I mean? Just how big are we talkin’, anyway?”
Rolling your eyes, you laughed again. “Well, I didn’t fucking measure it, but it’s a definite handful. Besides, you’ve never even met him, Em! How could you possibly get that vibe?”
“I’ve seen photos and heard stories, that’s more than enough to pick up on that sorta thing,” Emily replied with the confidence of someone who damn well knows what she’s talking about. “I need to know more. Gimme all the details!”
“Yeah, yeah. Speaking of BDE, I gotta finish getting ready. Joel said he had something special planned for tonight to celebrate me getting the teaching job.”
“I bet he does. You’re gonna get another deep dicking from that huge—”
“Bye Em!” you cut her off and hit end call before she could carry on anymore.
Tossing the phone on your bed, you finished putting a light layer of makeup on, putting in a little more effort to look good tonight. Ten minutes later, dressed in a pair of dark, fitted jeans and a dark blue, long-sleeve, vee neck shirt that showed just a touch of cleavage, you wandered out to the living room.
“Alright Dad, I’m off. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” Leaning over the back of his recliner, you press a kiss to his balding head.
“Have fun on your date and be careful, Spud. Call me if you need a ride home or anything,” he replied, patting your hand. You turned to leave, grabbing a light jacket from the hook by the door just in case, when your dad’s voice carried from the living room. “It’s funny, Joel told me he has a date tonight, too.”
Freezing for a moment, you squeak, “Oh, yeah?”
“Uh huh. Quite a coincidence me thinks.” He paused again, but you were at a loss for words and grateful that he couldn’t see your expression. “Enjoy your night, kiddo.”
Knowing a dismissal when you heard one, you take off through the door. Your mind raced on the short drive to Joel’s. He knows. Your dad so knows. You start to panic for a moment wondering if he’s upset before the realization hits that he didn’t seem remotely mad about it. More like he got a kick out of the idea and enjoyed teasing you. You and Joel had to fess up very soon, but that was a tomorrow problem. Tonight was meant to be all about you and Joel.
Walking through the front door, you expected to find Joel in the living room or kitchen, but the downstairs was empty. Lugging your overnight bag up the stairs, you thought maybe he’d be in his room or the bathroom still getting ready, but again, no sign of him. Where the hell was he?
Making your way down the stairs, you peeked out the window to make sure you didn’t imagine his truck in the driveway when you parked – it was there, right next to your car. He had to be around here somewhere. The sound of soft music hit your ears suddenly. Following the sound, you slipped out the back door and gasped.
A soft glow spread across the yard from lights strung from tree to tree, a plaid tablecloth covered the patio table on which sat a vase of brightly colored tulips, an open bottle of pinot noir, two stemless wine glasses, and two covered plates. Just beyond the patio, a hammock hung between two large live oaks with another set of string lights dangling above it. As your eyes took it all in, Joel stood off to the side watching you with a warm smile.
��Joel,” you whispered, afraid to disturb the dream-like quality of the moment, his name a drawn-out breath in the air when you finally turned to him. His dark eyes glinted from the string lights as he stepped forward out of the shadows, one hand stretched out towards you. There was no hesitation in reaching for him and you clung to each other for a few minutes before he stepped back to pull out a chair for you.
“Thank you,” you whispered, settling into the seat. When Joel took his place across the table from you, you added, “This is so lovely, Joel.”
A bashful smile graced his lips as he removed the covers from the plates and filled the wine glasses. Your gaze soaked in every little movement he made, in awe of the gorgeous man before you and all he’d done to make this evening special. Holding his glass up, he toasted to you. “Here’s to your new job and the start of a very rewarding career. Congrats darlin’.”
Clinking your glass against his lightly, you beamed at him. He looked so handsome, thick curls pushed back away from his face, tanned skin glowing in the soft lighting. “Thank you, Joel.” Already buzzing from the way he made you feel, you sipped lightly at the wine before digging into the meal before you.
Bursts of flavor hit your palette at the first bite, the chicken cooked to perfection and the sun-dried tomatoes adding just the right tang to the red pesto coating the rigatoni. A soft moan escaped before you caught it, cheeks heating up with the way Joel looked at you with hooded eyes.
“I reckon you like it?” he asked, a teasing lilt to his gravelly voice.
“This may be the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted, Joel. Did you make this?” You took another bite, savoring the flavors that exploded in your mouth.
“Mmhmm. It’s my mama’s recipe, she made it a lot when we were younger, and it’s always been my favorite. I’m glad you like it.” He watched you enjoy another forkful, obviously proud.
“I don’t just like it, Joel. This is fuckin’ delicious. I didn’t know you could cook like this!”
His cheeks turned pink as he cleared his throat. “I can’t, usually. I practiced a lot with this one.” That melted your heart further.
You ate your fill, making small conversation between bites, until your wine glass was empty, and your belly satisfied. Joel poured you another glass, which you sipped leisurely as he cleared the table and placed the dirty dishes in the dishwasher for later. He wouldn’t let you lift a finger.
“Dance with me?” he said upon his return outside, voice deep and gravelly as he plucked the glass from your hand and placed it on the table.
“I’d love to,” you replied softly, lips tilted upwards in a sweet smile. Holding his left hand out, Joel helped you to your feet and let you off the patio.
A new song began, volume a little louder now, and you stepped closer to him. A warm buzz spread through your veins when Joel pulled you against his broad chest, one arm wrapping around your waist and the other bent to hold your hand over his heart. You could feel the thump of his heartbeat beneath the green flannel he wore as he swayed you slowly around the grassy yard, careful to not stray too close to the pool.
Nothing ever felt as right as being there in Joel’s arms, dancing in the yard like the world beyond the fence didn’t exist. Your feelings for this man were overwhelming, growing deeper each and every day – hell, each and every second was more like it – and that four-letter word bubbled in your throat. You swallowed it down, settling your head against Joel’s shoulder, eyes closed and focused on the moment.
Joel’s chin tilted downward, nudging against the side of your face, his lips near your ear, and his breath sent delightful chills down your spine when he began to sing softly.
“Fall into me and I’ll catch you, darlin’. We’ll dance in the street like nobody’s watching. It’s just you and me and the song on repeat in my head, playing over and over…”
My god, how could you not fall in love with this incredible man?
The intimacy of it all brought tears to your eyes as your fingers threaded through the hair at the back of his head. Stomach alight with the flutter of too many butterflies, the urge to speak from your heart became too much, you could hold back no longer.
“I love you, Joel.”
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You loved him.
What did he ever do to deserve something like that?
Heart clenching deep in his chest, Joel guided you to the hammock, music still carrying softly through the air. With amazing finesse, he settled you both on the hanging fabric, bodies snuggled together until you nearly became one.
He ached to say the words back to you, but they kept getting stuck in his throat. Instead, he settled for showing you how he felt, just like he did with dancing and singing in your ear – he could have written that song for how relatable it was to the feelings you brought out in him. Dark eyes stared into yours as his hands moved over your body, pulling you impossibly closer.
I love you, his lips said as they pressed heatedly against yours.
I love you, his tongue said as it licked softly into your mouth to tangle delicously with yours.
I love you, his hands said as they touched you with utter reverence.
I love you, his body said as he pressed it tightly against yours, trying in vain to crawl beneath your skin.
Joel kissed you with singular focus until you were both breathless and overwrought with need.
“Take me to bed, Joel,” you whispered when he finally tore his lips from yours. “I need to feel every bit of you.”
Your angelic voice music to his ears, he scrambled from the hammock, scooping you up in his muscled arms to carry you inside and up to his bedroom. His mind occupied by one thing and one thing only – making love to you until you knew every part of him and he knew every part of you – the string lights and last bit of wine were left forgotten in the yard.
Loving the way you clung to him, Joel swept through the house and up the stairs with an urgency he’d not felt before.
His lips moved to brush down your neck, nipping at the tender skin as he went. Once in his room, he closed the door even though you were the only two there. Joel kissed each new patch of skin bared as he removed your clothes until you were completely naked. Easing you back onto his unmade bed, a low growl rumbled from deep in his chest when your fingers slid along his scalp and tugged on his hair. Fucking lord did he love how you touched him.
“Fuck, I need to taste you, pretty girl.”
He’d never seen anyone or anything more beautiful in his life as your naked body writhed on his bed, eager and yearning for his touch, and Joel knelt to worship at the altar of you.
Starting at your delicate feet, Joel’s fingertips traced every inch of you until he reached the apex of your thighs. Leaning forward, he let the scruff of his facial hair tickle along the flesh of your inner thighs, pressing open-mouth kisses along the soft skin as he went. Grinning as you trembled, he met your wide gaze as he leant forward, tongue exploring your folds.
The first taste of you set his soul on fire. Sweet like honey yet more addicting and thrice as satisfying, Joel licked at your clit, tongue occasionally dipping down into you, slurping greedily at the very essence of you.
He couldn’t have thought of a more delicious dessert.
His movements elicited sensuous moans that shot straight to his cock, his jeans quickly becoming too tight and uncomfortable. Seeking a little relief, his hips began grinding against the mattress as he brought you closer and closer to the edge, fingers soon assisting his tongue in driving you mad. Just when he thought he might blow his load in his jeans, again, you came, crying his name out, the syllables drawing out in a beautiful, lyrical drawl. Working you through it, Joel drank down every bit of your release like a thirsty man in the desert.
“Fuck, darlin’. You taste fuckin’ delicious. I could live here, between your legs, for the rest of my life, surviving on just you.” Joel stood as he spoke, gazing down at your blissed out form on his bed as he tore off his clothes, one large hand palming his cock before he practically dove into bed with you.
“You’re too good at that, Joel Miller,” you said, the words falling lazily from your lips as you recovered from the singularly intense orgasm. Swooping down, Joel kissed you passionately, offering you a taste of yourself lingering on his tongue.
Letting his body continue to do the communicating for him, Joel shifted his hips, grinding gently against you while his mouth devoured yours. Groaning as your nails scratched down his back, he reached a hand down to guide his cock toward its home in your pussy. Dark eyes opened wide, Joel watched your face as he entered you, delighting in the scrunch of your nose and the way your eyes squeezed shut before popping open again at the sensation of him splitting you open.
With long, slow, oh so deep, strokes, Joel made love to you, telegraphing the depth of his feelings in the only way he knew how, until you were writhing in pleasure beneath him. Afterwards, he cleaned the mess between your thighs and held you close until you fell asleep with your head resting on his chest. Only then, did he finally whisper the words he longed to say all night. “I love you, too.”
Joel stayed awake for a while, listening to your gentle snores and the soft sighs you made in your sleep. He loved that you let your guard down with him, that he was the man who got to hold you while you slept. In the darkness of night, Joel made himself a promise that he would not fuck this up before falling into a deep sleep of his own.
His dreams were particularly vivid, the sensation of your mouth around his cock so strong he’d swear it was real. He’d never experienced your mouth around him like that before, though, so it couldn’t be real. Joel let his dream-self enjoy every moment, your lips around his shaft and tongue teasing the throbbing vein along the underside of his cock a divinity he’d never known before. At one point you took him so deep that a loud, guttural moan escaped his lips, hands clenching in your hair.
Eyes popping open, the moan carried on, rumbling from deep within Joel’s chest as he glanced down to find you feasting on his hardened length. It wasn’t a dream after all.
“Fuuuccckkk,” his voice, still rough with sleep, drew out the word as he watched you go down on him. Your mouth a form of heaven he suffered too long without, the cheeky, mischievous look in your eye making the pleasure more intense. You clearly enjoyed the act nearly as much as he did.
It didn’t take long before your wanton rhythm and sinful mouth had him coming down your throat, your name a prayer recited over and over in that gravelly voice. “Jesus fucking Christ, darlin’. Where’d you learn to suck cock like that, hmm? Your mouth is like God damn heaven.”
Joel’s chest heaved as you gulped down every drop of his spend, tongue darting out to lick the last bit from the little slit on his cockhead before sliding over your lips. You visibly swallowed, savoring the taste of him; his eyes glued to your mouth the whole time. His hand came up, caressing your face with the love he couldn’t yet voice shining brightly in his eyes, and his thumb traced along your plump bottom lip.
“My little gummy worm,” he murmured, delirious from coming so hard. “Felt so good wrapped around my fat cock.”
Crawling up his body, you settled your weight atop him and pressed your lips to his, letting him taste a hint of himself on your tongue as licked into his mouth, returning the favor from the night before. The kiss was languid and sloppy, perfect for a lazy morning waking up together.
���You tasted good, all salty and musky,” you said once you broke away, voice raspy from having his dick halfway down your throat.
“You can wake me up like that any time you’d like, darlin’.”
The two of you cuddled for a while, neither of you too eager to start the day knowing you didn’t have anything pressing to do. Those unspoken words bubbled in Joel’s chest the whole time, begging to come to the surface, to be spoken aloud and given credence. Still, he hesitated without quite knowing why. Finally rolling out of bed around 10, you jumped into the shower while Joel threw on some clothes and ran out to grab some breakfast.
He just pulled back into his driveway, a bag with a few bagel breakfast sandwiches in one hand – he got an extra in case you wanted pork roll instead of bacon – a coffee and orange juice clutched in the other, when JB’s truck pulled up in front of his house.
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Settled on the couch after your refreshing shower, legs tucked under you while scrolling through your phone, you heard Joel’s truck pull up. Waiting for him to come in with breakfast for you both, you were caught off guard by the deep voices rumbling in the front yard. You sat up, peeking through the blinds to find your dad out front, hands on his hips as he spoke to Joel.
Oh shit.
You couldn’t discern their facial expressions from that angle and moved to the front door, quietly easing the heavy wood open to peek out and eavesdrop. They had to be talking about you, right? There was no hiding or pretending you weren’t here, especially with your car parked in the driveway right next to Joel’s. After your dad’s comments last night, you wondered if he planned this ambush then.
“I knew she’d be here,” you heard your dad say, but you couldn’t read his body language clearly. His hands were on his hips still, but there was a smile on his face. “You sweet on my baby girl, Joel?”
You couldn’t hear Joel’s response, his gravelly voice pitched too low for your ears to catch across the distance, but you could see him smile hesitantly even as his broad shoulders hunched slightly. Whatever it was caused your dad to chuckle and punch Joel playfully.
“I knew it!” your dad exclaimed, the sudden loudness startling you. “I knew you two would hit it off, I just wasn’t sure how long it’d take.”
You caught Joel’s response this time, his surprised voice pitching upwards. “You’re not upset?”
Walking toward the house without invitation, your dad paused. “Why the hell would I be upset? You’re a good man, Joel, and I know you’ll treat her well. And she’ll be good for you, too, I have no doubt. Now, you got enough in that there bag for breakfast for three?”
Your shoulders sagged with relief as you eased the door open. “I thought I heard voices! Hi Dad,” you greeted. “What are you doing here?”
“Hey Spud. I could ask you the same thing, but I knew I’d find you here.” Pulling you in for a hug, he ushered you inside. “I got tired of waiting for you two to come clean and thought I’d put you both on the spot.”
Eyebrows shooting up, you glanced at Joel before meeting your dad’s gaze again. “How did you know?”
Giving you a shrug, he said, “You two weren’t exactly subtle and a father always knows.” Nudging your shoulder, JB turned to Joel. “You’ll find that out soon enough, my friend. I can’t wait for the trouble that Sarah will give you.”
The three of you sat at the small dining table, digging into the breakfast sandwiches, your dad insisting you tell him how long you and Joel had been seeing each other and how it all started. Relieved to finally have the truth out there, you told him the story and JB chuckled.
“That about tracks. That’s right around when I started to notice something different between the two of you. And it sure explains why you hardly gave Annica the time of day on your date.” JB gave Joel grief about that failed date for weeks knowing that there was something – or someone – else drawing the man’s attention. JB had the feeling back then that it was you, his baby girl, his grown-up Spud, who captured the single father’s attention.
“You sure you’re okay with this, Dad? I mean…” your words fell off, not really knowing what to say. You’d be heartbroken if your dad wasn’t okay with a relationship between you and Joel, especially now that you verbally admitted to being in love with him.
“Are you kidding? I’m happy as a pig in shit that the two people I care about most like each other.” Your dad was all smiles, beady eyes sparkling with mischief. “In fact, I was planning on setting the two of you up if you didn’t figure things out for yourselves first. Tommy was in on the plan, too, and was the one who suggested we give it a little time. Little shit never told me it became official, though.”
Sitting back in your seat, you giggled with relief. All that time spent fretting over what your dad might think, feeling guilty for dating his best friend and hiding it from him for so long. It was all for naught. You should have known he’d love the idea of you two together.
“So, when’s the wedding?” JB asked, a shit-eating grin spread across his lips as you and Joel froze, eyes darting to each other in wide-eyed panic. Your dad practically guffawed at his own humor while you two were practically having a panic attack. “I’m just kidding – there’s no rush. Just make sure you treat her right, Joel.”
Recovering from the initial panic – not that he didn’t want to marry you, eventually, just not quite this soon – Joel laughed a little nervously. “Of course, JB. I’ll always treat her right. I, uh… I love her.” His gaze shifted to you, heart showing firmly in those dark chocolate orbs. “I love you, darlin'.”
tbc
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theladykassia · 2 days
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Blurb: Sam makes your latte and accidentally confesses
Content: no triggers, just fluff. This idea came to me as I added an obscene amount of mini marshmallows to my own coffee.
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Sam Monroe was working at a coffee shop during summer to earn some extra cash for a concert he wants to go. You guys aren't exactly friends but you always smile his way whenever the opportunity presents itself. You also made it a habit to go to said cafe because 'they make the best latte there', but honestly? You just want to see your favorite emo boy. You didn't even know the place existed before a friend of yours mentioned seeing Sam.
They had joked about the way Sam seemed angry at having to treat people nicely there. Or maybe it was the fact that he had to wear an apron.
You had to see it for yourself, so you went one day. And then the next... And then the next. Soon enough it became your favorite place.
It doesn't matter how hard Sam tries to give off this 'I don't give a fuck about you or anything else' vibe, the truth is that he's a total sweetheart— well, once you dig deep enough at least. The more you spoke to him, the more you learned about him. Even when he acts annoyed at how bubbly you're being, your sweet, innocent smile, is enough to warm his whole chest, you're just that cute! He's not used to people being so nice to him all the time, and you're always trying to talk to him. Complimenting him on his fashion choices or trying to talk about your few shared interests.
Sam would notice every little detail about you, and how could he not? You went almost daily to the coffee shop. He quickly learns exactly how to make your latte. The temperature, how strong it was, how much sugar to add.
It doesn't take too long for the poor guy to develop a crush on you. But this is Sam Monroe, talking about his feelings and being vulnerable isn't his strongest suit.
He ends up learning how to make some simple latte art, a skill he doesn't particularly use often. But it's the reason why you found out that the guy was crushing on you.
This particular day you were in a hurry, so you make your order and request that is served in a disposable cup and not a mug. Sam made sure to heat up the milk to the exact temperature you like. The only difference is that this time, he made a heart with the foam and slapped a cap on it almost instantly, giving the cup to you with an uninterested look.
“Here. It's hot so don't be stupid and drink slowly. Already put the sugar in it.”
You smile sweetly, rolling your eyes with humor as you put a few dollars in the tip jar. “Thank you, Sam. You make the best coffee here, y'know? I'm gonna miss you when you quit.”
The comment makes him want to smile, but he shrugs instead. Sam bites his lip to prevent the smirk that was about to happen from forming.
“Whatever, that's what I get paid to do... It's not like it took any real effort to make it,” he says with a tone that suggested he was bored. But that's the thing, he did put his best effort into it. "And you'll be fine.”
You smile again, not being bothered by his bratty tone. You know it's nothing against you, that Sam always did that to people. You figured it was just the way he was, or that it was some sort of defense mechanism. You also heard him when he said he already added the sugar, but you always like to see how foamy your latte is, so imagine your surprise when you remove the cap and find the shape of a heart, it obviously wasn't an accident. Your eyes met with a very flustered and blushy version of Sam.
“W-why the hell did you do that! I told you it had sugar already, damn!” he complains, furiously wiping the countertop that was pretty much squeaky clean before he began 'cleaning it'. You had never seen Sam so red and embarrassed before. It was adorable, and it was making you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
You giggle, what else were you supposed to do? At this point you forgot how late you were to your own job. You wanted to take a picture of the coffee, but you didn't want to torture him any more.
“But... But it's so pretty, Sammy!” you praise, biting your lip shyly. “I really like it.”
The mix of you praising him, biting your lip and then giving him a nickname made Sam groan, his face getting even redder than before.
“W-whatever, it doesn't mean anything.” He grumbles, briefly looking at you. “... Unless you want it to mean something.” he adds, not being able to stop himself. Sam cringes at his own words, afraid that he only made a fool of himself. Not to be dramatic, but he felt like he could quit just because of this. “Well?”
You were not used to making bold moves like this, but you reach over the countertop for the marker he had on his apron. Sam frowned at the action, but kept watching you with curiosity.
Taking one of the flyers they had at the counter, you wrote your number on the back and handed both things to Sam.
“I'm a simple girl, I'm fine with watching a movie and grabbing some burgers afterwards” you give him one last smile before leaving the cafe. He had no excuses, you gave him your number and a first date idea. You even took the pressure of planning out the whole thing off of him. Now all you had to do was wait, and you had a feeling that he would be reaching out to you soon.
You smile big, looking down at the heart in your cup. You had a really good feeling about this, you just hope you're right.
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lilysundragon · 1 day
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The Quality Dip in Enstars' Writing
Enstars' writing quality has always been a little up and down. I've read through a decent chunk of Basic not ALL of the stories are bangers but the ones that hit, they hit hard. There's a reason we all still talk about stories like Meteor Impact or Checkmate or, hell, my personal favorite: Requiem.
Although I think there are some really strong stories in Music like Sudden Death and Obbligato, I think that for the most part we can all agree that the writing isn't up to par. I think the first warning signs any of us really got that things were going into the shitter tho was Mad Tea Party. KnightsP kicked up a fuss about the continuity error but despite that little controversy, the errors in the stories just seem to be growing worse. From massive character pivots like Kuro suddenly treating sewing like it's just a cute little hobby to Natsume acting completely out of character in Switch climax, it seems like the writers have stopped treating the stories with the same care and attention to detail that the major stories in Basic era had. And it's really sad.
The Enstars writers have announced that they'll no longer be credited on stories (source), I think it's pretty obvious WHY they're doing this. People were NOT happy with the new Alkakurei event and leaving out the names of the writers working on the stories will certainly mitigate the harassment. I want to firmly state that sending death threats is NOT and will never be okay but I do think that it's a little alarming to know that the Enstars staff don't seem to be learning from the mistakes of the past year.
I'm a KnightsP. I'm highly biased. Although I do not condone the actions of fans who took it too far (again sending death threats is NOT the answer) I had hoped that the fuss would discourage Happy Elements from being careless with the stories in the future. People are so, so attached to these characters. The fans are passionate, motivated, highly creative people who have kept this franchise alive for NINE years. It's important to listen to their feedback so long as it's reasonable and calmly stated. I had hoped that the KnightsP were big enough that they could prevent other units from suffering a similar fate. It's kind of obvious that it isn't going to happen though. Stories continue to release that completely contradict previously established lore and mischaracterize the idols we've come to love.
I know it's hard to the writers to heed every single story ever written. There is a MASSIVE amount of lore to Enstars that has occurred over the past nine years. I also think however that just putting in the effort would go a long way to appease fans. Right now it feels like some of the writers are doing the bare minimum research for a franchise that used to have a lot of love and care put into it. If fanfic writers who put all this love and creativity into the world for free can afford to have beta readers I think Mr. Happy Elements has the means to do it too.
TLDR: I guess what I'm saying is, I've been disappointed by the quality of story writing this past year and I don't see it improving without Happy Elements taking in constructive feedback. I sincerely hope the new change in anonymity allows the writers more freedom to be creative and expressive but I don't think that will be the case.
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Mr. Peacekeeper
Coriolanus hears her before he sees her. Or well, he hears the other guys and their jeers, alerting him of her presence on the base.
Becoming a Peacekeeper—involuntarily—has been a difficult adjustment for Coriolanus Snow who was used to the ways of the Capitol, to say the least. In that beautiful city, there was law and order, a natural hierarchy and he was so close to making his way to the top.
Snow lands on top after all.
But he fell, fell down the rabbit hole and here he was sitting on the edge of his bunk shining his black Peacekeeper boots. At least he was from the Capitol, he knew the rest of these men couldn’t say the same and that gave him an upper hand. At least in his mind, it did.
It’s empty in his barrack, everyone’s either down at the Hob or in the mess hall. He chose to forego either so he could have some time to himself, plan out his grand future. More like his grand escape. That’s why he’s really here, so see her, talk to her, learn from her.
They do things differently in the Districts. Without the Capitol here to direct and instate immediate order it’s become a bit of a wasteland. And who in the Capitol gives a shit about District Twelve?
The sound of the door creaking open pulls him from his thoughts and he looks up to see Soarynn wearing that sweet smile as she walks towards his bunk. She's put some effort into her appearance today which is a stark contrast to how he first met her, stumbling out of another barrack in the middle of the night, with no shoes, her hair a mess, her makeup slightly smudged and she reeked of sex.
A barracks bunny.
That's what she was. At least that's what Beanpole told him when Coriolanus asked about the messy-headed blonde girl the next morning at breakfast He'd gotten a few chuckles from the older Peacekeepers, "She's real wild in the sheets, you should meet her sometime," Smiley had told him. The idea of a girl willingly entering the Peacekeeper's base to provide...services was somewhat revolting to Coriolanus who was used to women being civilized. He certainly hadn't come across any prostitutes while roaming the streets of the Capitol after dark.
It instantly made Soarynn trash in his eyes. Lowlife, pathetic, District trash.
"Well, don't you look pretty?" He asks, looking her up and down. She's wearing a light pink dress that has lace detailing on the hem. It's probably the nicest thing she owns and she wore it just for him. Her hair is pulled back and there's probably a ribbon tying it up with a few pieces framing her face. Soarynn giggles and plops down next to him, her hand immediately taking his. He's still taken aback by it, her confidence. But Soarynn is more than used to being around dangerous men like him, it's second nature to her.
"Had to look good for my favorite Peacekeeper," she says sweetly, batting those blue-gray eyes up at him. Oh, how he'd love to see them roll back in pleasure. He smirks, "You look the prettiest when you're crying on my cock, but you know that already don't you?"
Soarynn hums, absentmindedly playing with his fingers, the same ones she loves lodged deep in her cunt until she's teary-eyed. “Saw y’all strung up someone else today,” she says, but she doesn’t sound mad like some other people in town. They’d hung a known criminal today after he attempted to attack one of the mine bosses. The crowd was outright aggressive and Coriolanus was honestly surprised shots hadn’t been fired.
He nods, “Yeah, didn’t see you in the crowd though.” Soarynn giggles and drops his hand, “I was asleep.” Well he’s not surprised there. Soarynn is a true night owl, sleeping during the day and wide awake during the night. A bit unusual but when your job is sleeping around with all sorts of men you tend to have an odd sleep schedule.
At first, Coriolanus had been slightly put off by her work. Sleeping around was one thing but selling yourself? He did his best to avoid her, not become another one of her customers. But she was hard to ignore with that smile and those eyes not to mention the moans she’d let out while she got fucked. He knew most men on this base couldn’t give her what she really wanted but it wasn’t really about her and she knew that. Still, she put on quite the show with her exaggerated gasps and moans.
All for a few crumpled up pieces of money.
Eventually he caved. Got her to give him a blowjob one night at the Hob. Soarynn’s services extended past the base into the greater area of District Twelve and she was more than happy to help him out. That’s when he got addicted to her.
Maybe it was because the base lacked a certain amount of feminine charm but Coriolanus was downright desperate for some female company. He didn’t always fuck her. Sometimes he’d finger her or she’d give him head, other times they’d just talk. She was seventeen, one year younger than him but well beyond her years in his opinion. She was funny, clever and so, so sweet.
And no matter how many times he fell asleep with her in his arms, he always woke up to an empty bed.
“Did you have sweet dreams?” He asks, frowning at the loss of physical contact. Soarynn shrugs, “Doesn’t really matter does it?” Well she has a point. And he didn’t ask her to come here for conversation this time. He needs to fuck. Let all his frustrations out on her. The worst part is that she’ll let him do whatever he wants to her. As long as he pays her for it.
It’s almost pitiful the way her eyes light up at the sight of a shiny coin when he pulls it from his pocket. She’s got siblings at home, lots of little ones to look after, mouths to feed. Her mom died when she was little and her dad works in the mines. He has no idea that his daughter’s a whore.
“You miss me?” He asks, placing the coin into her palm, her small fingers wrapping around it. Coriolanus leans in and presses a kiss to her neck, smirking when she whimpers, “Mhm, missed you a lot Coriolanus.” The way his name rolls off her tongue is a sweet symphony. He wants to hear it again and again and again. He slips a hand under he dress, his fingers dragging along her lace panties.
Her lingerie is probably the nicest thing she owns but when you make a living selling your body he supposed that you’d need to invest in a good lingerie selection. He sometimes imagines her in proper, expensive lingerie from the Capitol. Taking her there, giving her a leash and collar and teaching her how to be a good girl for him. Train her.
Soarynn asks him lots of questions about the Capitol, so curious about it all. He thinks it’s cute the way her eyes light up when he tells her a new fact about the city he used to call home. “Why don’t you lay on back for me then?” He asks, pulling his hand back out and earning him a whine. He shoots her a stern look and Soarynn is quick to lay down on his bunk. Thank goodness he chose the bottom bunk because he can’t imagine trying to conquer the top bunk while conquering her sweet cunt.
“How much to finish inside of you?” He grunts, grabbing her hips and tugging her under him. Soarynn gasps and sits up on her elbows, shooting him a nervous look, “I…I don’t know if I can let you finish inside me anymore,” she says quietly.
Coriolanus raises his eyebrows. It costs extra to finish inside that pretty little cunt of hers and not too many men can afford that luxury. Just another thing that sets him apart from these District folk. “Why not?” He asks, his tone far from kind. Usually he wouldn’t fight her on it but he’s had a long day and all he wants to do is bury himself inside her cunt.
Soarynn swallows and stares at the springs of the top bunk above her, “I um…I just don’t wanna do that anymore. With anyone, not just you I swear.” And that’s more than a reasonable answer but Coriolanus wants nothing more than to bury himself inside of her when he finishes and he just can’t take no for an answer. Not today. Not after the week he’s had.
Anger flashes through his eyes and he grabs her thigh, squeezing it so tight that he'll definitely leave behind bruises from where his fingers were, "A bit ironic huh? The District Twelve whore doesn't want to do her job anymore?" He knows he's being mean, cruel, and that Soarynn's just doing her best to provide for her siblings but this just might push him over the edge.
He can't stand it here. The heat, the bugs, the smell, and the people are the worst part of it all. Everyone has sunken faces and bony figures, he's surprised most of them can stand. Soarynn is no different, even at seventeen she could easily pass for fifteen the way her growth has been stunted. Coriolanus can count every single one of her ribs when she arches her back from pleasure and far from well-fed. Sometimes the guys on base will sneak her some food, a piece of bread, or some leftover bologna.
A small price to pay to fuck her senseless.
Soarynn's eyes slightly widen at his hurtful comments but she's got thick skin she shakes her head, "I can't afford another mouth to feed." He wants to roll his eyes at that line of defense because heaven knows Soarynn could never carry a child inside of her malnourished body but there has to be a better reason as to why she won't let him finish inside of her.
"I think you're lying," he says slowly, sliding his hand up to her inner thigh, "I think you're too scared to tell me the actual truth Soarynn." Soarynn presses her thighs together but his hand stays where he put it and she huffs, "What's it matter to you?" She snaps, a defiant look in her eyes, "Not like you wanna be around the likes of me for any longer than you have to." She's got him there. Coriolanus has spent one too many nights telling Soarynn about his grand plans once he gets the hell out of here. She'd sit wide-eyed and listen to him, hanging on every word he said.
"I'll go back to my penthouse," he'd say, "fix it up, get a new chandelier, then I'd go to the University, get a true education. Then it's off to the big leagues, running for President." Soarynn would be so attentive, so interested in his perfectly planned future. One night as they were drifting off to sleep she had mumbled some words that still stuck with him to this day, "Maybe I could come with you, just for a bit."
This little girl often believed in him more than he did and he'd be damned if he let all that go to waste. He shakes his head and sits back on his knees, "There's still something you're not telling me. What is it? Did your old boyfriend find out about your little job?" Soarynn turns a shade of pink at him mentioning her old flame, Billy Taupe. According to Soarynn, Billy Taupe had been her first time in everything. First kiss, first time having sex, and all of the in-between. Coriolanus hated him for that. Mainly because the man was the same age as Coriolanus, making him older than Soarynn. And yes, Coriolanus was no better than him in that regard, but, he wasn't dating Soarynn.
He was fucking her. There's a difference.
She looks down at her dress and he sees something he's never seen in her eyes before, shame. Soarynn is a lot of things, she's quick on her feet, witty, and confident. She's never had any shame for her chosen profession but it's written clear as day on her face.
"My dad," she finally says, "he came home early the other night, must've caught wind of what I've been up to. We argued for a long while before...before he kicked me out. Won't let me see my siblings, won't let me back in the house, nothin' is gonna change his mind." She's crying now and Coriolanus is beginning to feel uncomfortable because all he had wanted was a quick fuck and maybe to get the local scoop on what was happening in town. He doesn't need a sob story but he can play this to his advantage.
He wastes no time in wrapping his strong arms around her, embracing her small, shaking frame, "Oh, Soarynn I'm so sorry. I can't imagine how difficult that must be for you." He doesn't mention how he has literally been kicked out of his home and the Capitol because that's not going to get him where he needs to go.
He's got to play his cards right.
So he lets her cry, the poor thing sounds devastated as she sobs into his white Peacekeeper shirt. He rubs her back in soothing circles, figuring she might as well get it all out now while she can. When she finally pulls away her eyes are puffy and her face is stained with tears, "I don't know what to do Coriolanus," she whispers, her fingers playing with his dog tags, "I'm staying' with a cousin of mine but I can't stay there forever."
For some reason, his mind drifts to the Officer's test he took the other day. Only those who were Capitol-born could qualify to take the test and Commander Hoff had basically told Coriolanus that he'd get the position considering most of the men on base can't read. He might even get transferred to a higher-ranking District, like District Two. Which was still a District nonetheless but for once, Coriolanus couldn't be picky.
Once he got to Two he'd climb up the ranks until he would be able to get back to the Capitol. He'd make it work somehow, he was sure of it. Too bad he'd have to leave Soarynn and all her troubles behind though. He'd miss the feeling of her sweet cunt wrapped around his cock.
Coriolanus perks up. "Soarynn?" She sniffles and wipes her face with the back of her hand, "Yeah?" It's a crazy and stupid idea but it just might work if he plays his cards right, "I um...I'm going to leave Twelve soon, very soon actually once my Officer's test results come back," he starts, and Soarynn's face drops. She looks even sadder if that's possible, "Oh, oh, well that's real exciting Coriolanus," she mumbles. He bites the inside of his cheek, debating whether or not to propose his idea to her. But Soarynn's harmless for the most part, and dispensable but she doesn't need to know that.
"Yes it is and I was thinking maybe I could take you with me."
Soarynn drops his dog tags and stares down at her lap for a moment, his words sinking in. She looks up at him and she looks like she doesn't believe a word he's saying, "Take me with you?" She repeats, tilting her head like a sweet little puppy. Coriolanus scratches the back of his neck because it does sound a bit crazy when you say it out loud but Soarynn could be the stepping stone he needs to climb up the ranks. It's a shot in the dark but it's a risk he's willing to take for her.
He nods, "Yeah. Um, you could come with me, I'm sure I could make it work, convince Hoff to let you leave Twelve, and that way you could kind of start over." He's overselling it but Soarynn doesn't pick up on it. Soarynn brushes her hair behind her ears and bites her lip the way she always does when she can't make a decision. Sometimes they play a game where he'll put a coin in one of his hands and tell her to pick which hand it's in. If she picks the right hand, she gets to keep the coin. Right now, she has to pick the correct hand.
"I'd have to leave my family," she finally says. There's pain and sadness in her voice but Coriolanus can't afford that, not when he already has this entire thing formulated in his mind, "They already left you," he tells her, cupping her face with his hand, "they all turned their backs on you when all you wanted was to provide for them."
More hurt flashes in her eyes but he is right to a certain extent. Sure, sleeping around with half the District wasn't the best way to make money and it sure as hell isn't legal but at least she was using her assets.
"How would you get me out?" She asks and he knows right then and there that he's got her. Coriolanus presses a kiss to her forehead, "Don't you worry about a thing."
꧁ ꧂
It's a bit nerve-racking to willingly walk into Commander Hoff's office but no one has gotten anywhere without a little bit of courage. So Coriolanus musters up all the courage he has before entering the office, his head held high.
He's greeted with a curt nod and Hoff gestures for him to take a seat, "You've impressed me, Snow," Hoff starts, "haven't had a man like you in a long time." Coriolanus swallows, "Thank you, sir." He has to keep it strictly business until the last moment. Hoff nods and holds up a file, "Your test scores came back. Passed with flying colors, as expected of course. We'll be sad to see you go." Coriolanus feels a small smile tug on his lips, "I'm leaving the base?" He asks, feigning surprise.
Hoff grunts and reaches for his glass of what looks like whiskey and takes a drink, "You are. District Two has a much better program than we do down here. Say, you wouldn't happen to be Crassus Snow's boy would you?" The painful reminder of his overachieving father stabs Coriolanus right in his ego but he nods, "Yes sir, he's my father." Hoff nods, seemingly impressed, "Now that was a real man. Always willing to do whatever was needed for us to succeed. These other men on this base, they don't have that, have the guts, the gaul. You have it though Private, I can see it."
Those words do nothing but inflate his previously stabbed ego. To be praised to the same degree as his father is something Coriolanus isn't used to but he's beginning to like it. Hoff waves his hand in the air, "But that's not what you're here for. You leave at the end of the week, make sure to say your goodbyes and get your affairs in order. Tie up any loose ends."
Coriolanus only has one loose end and he plans on taking her with him whether he reaches to top or the bottom. He clears his throat before leaning forward in his chair, "That's what I was hoping to talk to you about sir." Hoff raises his eyebrow, Coriolanus is sure that the man doesn't get a lot of requests from his men but Coriolanus is willing to be the first. "Is there something you need Private?"
Coriolanus laces his fingers, "There is sir. You see, there's this girl here and I can't find it in myself to cut things off with her." Hoff lets out a laugh, it's so loud and unexpected that Coriolanus jumps in his seat. He watches the Commander laugh, laugh so hard that he has a tear running down his face, "Well give her one more slap on the ass before you go Private," he chuckles, wiping his tear, "can't stay here from some District lowlife."
Coriolanus glances at the closed door that leads outside before inching even closer to the edge of his seat, "You know the girl who comes here at night? The barracks bunny?"
"The blonde one?"
"That's her."
"What about her Snow?"
"That's the girl. The girl I can't leave. I need to take her with me to Two. She won't cause any trouble I swear."
Hoff manages to wipe the dumbstruck look off of his face in under a minute but Coriolanus is still nervous about what he's going to say. He could dismiss him, strip away all titles and achievements and Coriolanus could spend the rest of his miserable life in Twelve. "This girl of yours, she's a crowd favorite isn't she?" It pains Coriolanus to think of all the men Soarynn has been with. She hasn't slept with anyone else since he proposed the idea to her per his request. He'll have to get her properly tested for any diseases.
He nods, "She is sir." Hoff strokes his chin and leans back in his chair, lost in thought, "You know, I've seen her running around my base. Never chased her off though, it's good for the men to have something to motivate them you know. But after all these years I've never spoken to her, never run into her myself."
Coriolanus can't stop the grin from spreading across his face, "What if I could make that happen for you sir?"
꧁ ꧂
Thirty minutes later Coriolanus is walking out of Hoff's office with a skip in his step. They'd reached a wonderful agreement. He finds Soarynn right where he left her, sitting outside with her back against the wall. She's wearing her cleanest dress and he scrubbed her down in the shower until her skin turned pink. He wanted her spotless. Her hair is brushed and braided and she managed to get some makeup from her cousin when she went to get her things the other day to move out.
Soarynn looks up at him and she looks nervous, he knows why though. She's never met Commander Hoff, didn't want to risk getting arrested. He offers her a hand and she gingerly takes it, her small fingers wrapping around his larger ones, she glances at the open door before looking back up at him.
Coriolanus leans down until his lips ghost the shell of her ear, "Go in there and make him happy."
And Soarynn does, because she's his good girl and his favorite little toy to share when need be.
They'll both be leaving on the next train should things go well tonight.
For her sake, he hopes they do.
꧁ ꧂
"I've never seen mountains like that before." Coriolanus looks up from his book and looks out the train window. He can see the icy peaks of District Two's mountains jutting into the sky, "The biggest mountain is called 'The Nut' and there's a base inside of it," he tells her, directly reading from the book in his hands. Hoff had given him the book as they got onto the train so he could brush up on his District Two knowledge. Soarynn's eyes widen and she looks up at him, "You're lyin', no way there's a base inside of that." He chuckles and closes the book, "You'll see it soon."
Getting Soarynn on this train hadn't been easy but he did it. After she spent the night with Commander Hoff she came back to his bunk covered in bruises with blood dripping down her leg. Coriolanus hadn't known what to say when she collapsed in his arms and sobbed until she passed out. The next day he was told that both of them would be traveling to District Two together where she would be his responsibility.
All Officers were given private sleeping quarters which included a single twin bed, a dresser, and a small bathroom with a sink, toilet, and shower. There was one window and one door in and out of the small shack but it was much better than sharing with several other men.
Soarynn had been so excited when he told her about it. She didn't even care that she would be thousands of miles away from her family. She'd gone to say her goodbyes to her siblings the morning they left. Coriolanus had accompanied her to the sorry excuse they considered a house. All her siblings looked just like her, blonde hair and blue eyes and they were all so young. Soarynn had kissed all their heads and whispered words of devotion and encouragement before giving her dad a more than awkward hug goodbye.
The man stared Coriolanus down the entire time as if this was all his fault.
Now they were almost to the station where they'd be driven directly to the base. Coriolanus had been more than pleased with the accommodations they'd been met with so far. First-class train tickets, a private escort to the station in Twelve. Things were already looking up for him.
He places a hand on Soarynn's thigh, giving it a firm squeeze, "Remember, manners, no talking unless spoken to and do-"
"Don't tell anyone how we really met," Soarynn finishes for him, "I know. I'm not dumb." She kind of was but he just kisses her temple, "It'll be good for us to start over," he decides.
As they pulled into the station he felt better than he had in a long, long time. Snow lands on top once again.
| Part 1. |
| tumblr oneshot/drabble |
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the-graves-family · 10 months
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Bullseye trios that exist at any given moment in my brain cage
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Asshole mercenary friends (Bullseye, Deadpool, Taskmaster): these guys hang out for drinks, murder and backstabbing and i love them for it.
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The 'We can take Daredevil (in a fight right? right?)' Squad (Bullseye, Lady Bullseye, Ikari): i wish we'd had more of them, especially with Bullseye at his peak and not in the iron lung. i'd like to think, perhaps unrealistically, that they'd be a good team and they'd respect each other more than anyone else.
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The 'I can explain' ship (Bullseye, Daredevil, Elektra): It's 100% because of this fic
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theygender · 10 months
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Tbh as an autistic person who's in the top percentiles on some measures of intelligence and in the bottom percentiles on other measures of intelligence I often feel like I'm living my life like that one SpongeBob scene where he makes a circle by drawing an incredibly detailed portrait and erasing lines until only the outline is left. I rank pretty high up on vocabulary and my brain always defaults to Big Words, but I don't want to sound pretentious or make it hard for other people to understand me so I have to actively work to mentally convert into smaller synonyms as I'm talking/typing, which means I start off with the type of obtuse language you would read in a research paper or some shit and then I have to intentionally put in More Effort just to sound normal. And if my brain is too tired to make connections appropriately then sometimes I can't even remember synonyms like "bad" and I end up having to stick with malicious or malevolent or smth in a simple shitpost, which is basically like I'm trying to draw a circle and my brain just tells me "sorry buddy best I can do is the portrait" 😭 help
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grabyourpillow · 5 months
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"Tbf I wasn't sure if the exosercheides was a subspecies of the choneidontes or the masoclasts, so I just approximated their characteristics based on the brachosires, since they are basically genetical cousins. I should have gotten the details of the bony landmarks right except for the 17th and 18th osteicule, which I headcanoned a bit higher than normal. Onstructists plz don't come at me... If you see any blatant factual errors, plz tell me I'll correct it right away ^-^" <- This is what you people who do research for your fanart or fanfics sound liketo me btw
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bestie is coming home on 1st im having thoughts
#obviously i missed her and would love to see her but seeing her brings so many complicated feelings and i hate it#i realised somewhere in the middle of a metro surrounded by a crowd that my bestfriend loves her boyfriend more than she loves me#i saw them flirt and hug and ive known her since we were 11 okay i had never seen her be so happy and calm and peaceful and CONTENT#and it made me feel yuck disgusting gross that i could never give her anything like this in years of our friendship so ofc she loves him#more than me#i used to be annoyed at her telling me about him what he did down to evey detail but there's one i can remember really well#how she was upset with him and he got angry too very angry so she thought he was breaking up with her and she started sobbing so#uncontrollably on the phone itself because she couldn't lose him and so he at like 11 pm?? he left his pg and showed up at her house told#her to come down just to give her a hug and then they went to have ice cream to make her feel better#and i just.#obviously she loves him more ivy you don't even talk to her unless she talks to you you talk once in like 2 months#she has made me realise so many things about love 😭#i think i get it love means showing up being there when the person you love needs you no matter what#like i get it's not always possible real life problems but#like he did have real life problems going out so late getting an auto not even being sure if she would come down cause she has very strict#parents#he was willing to put in all that effort just cause she was sad and that's why she loves him more than me it makes sense#but this is why i feel so scared im not even 2% of the person he is i always feel she is going to realise im an asshole and leave me#but we talk so less it wouldn't even affect me realistically#but then i would have lost all my childhood friends everyone who knew me when i was happy better than present atleast#i would have lost all friends period since i don't have any irl friends 😭#this is why i feel conflicted 😭😭😭
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arcademgmt · 1 year
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i cannot wait for g*nshin im//pact to die i want it gone and will piss on its grave
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9hikers · 2 years
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very torn on whether to make magic-based transitioning match pretty closely to real-world transitioning or to make stuff like “potion of instantly alter your body with no consequences”
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kellerybird · 2 years
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sir-snow · 1 month
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I don't believe in therapy.
Let's just read Neitzsche and do kinky stuff together.
That'll be healthy, right?
#my thoughts on therapy are much more complex than that#I just know that 90% of people in every occupation just plain shouldn't be there#And I really don't feel like window shopping through a bunch of peusdo intellectuals#When all I'm trying to do is better comprehend my reality and my role in it#And the major-majority of therapists#That I've had personal or professional interactions with#Either just plain don't care#Are giving you that look like#“Oh god is this going to be the person that beats me to death with my own clip-board”#Or are just waiting for you to say something incriminating so they can involve the police#There was one older lady in particular I talked too#Not even realizing she was a therapist until she started asking me a bunch of personal questions#And the subject of careers got brought up#And this gal was genuinely shell-shocked when I gave minor details about one of my verbally abusive father figures#It was as if she'd only heard about cases like that in books or on TV#And my reaction to her newfound curiosity was sort of blasé#Like yeah#Have you literally never interacted with a lower to middle class drunk or any of their kids before?#Granted I only said 90% earlier#Because there's one dude in particular I wouldn't mind buying a beer for#Now that I think about it#There's also a nurse I wish I could apologize too#Even if she was being holier than thou with her Bible pushing#But some people don't seem to realise that bastards are naturally predispositioned to being atheists#I just can't seem to fathom why a boy who grew up without his biological father#Doesn't like to hear about a guy who's father created him just so he can die for the sins of others#And that it would make much more sense for her to put her efforts into preventing some other kid's life from being more fucked up#Than it already is#Rather than trying to unravel the issues of a young man whom they just met with a pre-printed out sheet of paper#Wow I really didn't intend to write this much
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monsterblogging · 2 months
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"I know JK Rowing is a terrible person but her books are so good-"
You sure about that?
I mean, just for a start, have you taken a good look at her fantasy creatures lately? A whole bunch of them are straight-up based on malicious and dehumanizing stereotypes about actual people.
Remember the werewolves? And being a werewolf was made into a kind of metaphor for having AIDS?
And you know how AIDS was first associated with gay men? And how conservatives back in the day were claiming gay men were preying on children in order to convert them to gayness?
Remember how Fenrir Greyback preyed on children in particular? Yeah, she put that subtext in there. She was an adult in the 90's. She knew damn well what she was doing.
Remember the house elves? Remember how most of them loved to serve and needed to have a home and a master or else they just wouldn't know what to do with themselves?
Did you know that's literally what slavers in the American South said about the Black people they kept enslaved? Go look up the happy slave myth.
Do I even need to get into the goblins and the antisemitic tropes they're based on? No, folkloric goblins were not gold-hoarding bankers waiting for their chance to stab humanity in the back.
"But the characters are so good!"
Are you kidding me?
Most of her characters are pretty one-dimensional, including Harry. Her idea of making a morally complicated character is giving a tragic past to a bully. Numerous characters are little more than stereotypes. (Looking at Fleur right now.) Literally anybody, including you, can easily make dozens of characters just as good, if not better. (It doesn't exactly take a lot of character designing skill to go, "hey, actually, having a sad backstory doesn't make it okay to bully children" or "hey, maybe I should not base a character on the first stereotype that pops into my head.")
"But the rest of the worldbuilding!"
Sorry, but her worldbuilding is just as basic as her characters. Magical castles and secret passages are stock tropes. Magical people who keep their true nature secret from humanity is the premise of pretty much every White Wolf TTRPG. Most of her fantasy creatures are just common European fairy tale and folklore creatures with shitty stereotypes projected onto them.
I'm not saying "basic worldbuilding bad." I'm saying, you could do just as good, if not better, with minimal effort.
Also there's her magical bioessentialism, where only Harry's abusive blood relatives could provide him with supernatural protection from Voldemort. Rowling thus effectively declared that non-biological family isn't quite real family, and that abusive biofamily can give you some essential thing that a loving, supportive family that isn't related to you just can't.
The Hogwarts houses are one of the most insidious elements of her worldbuilding. The idea of being sorted gives you a little dopamine hit because wow now you have a li'l niche where you belong!
But the actual function of the houses and sorting system and the House Cup is teaching children to see each other as rivals, and ensure that the most toxic views of the upper class get passed on to every new batch of kids sorted into Slytherin.
Hogwarts effectively prepares children for a dystopia where magic serves to distract its citizens from how nightmarishly awful it is. Economic inequality is so bad that people like Arthur and Molly Weasley can barely afford to put their kids through school, casual sadism is just an accepted norm in everyday society, and non-humans are second class citizens. Rowling sorta acts like she thinks this is a bad thing with certain lines she gave to Dumbledore, but in the end, her special boy protagonist becomes an auror; IE, a defender of the status quo. So.
If you've never seen it, Lily Simpson's video goes into even more detail on how the worldbuilding of Harry Potter is actually incredibly fucked up, and how it betrays small-minded attitudes on Rowling's part. There's no separating the art from this artist, because Rowling's rotten values pour out of nearly every page.
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Yes, there are many things in Harry Potter that evoke feelings and inspire people, but there's absolutely nothing in it that this series has a monopoly on. You can find those same experiences in much, much better media.
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genshin-obsessed · 4 months
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Helloooo~!! Could I request the men in honkai star rail with an s/o who makes various different plushies for themselves and the men?
Just imagine Dan Heng getting a chonky dragon plushie version of himself.
✩ ‒ You guys have the most creative ideas sometimes lmao I would’ve never thought of this and it is such a cute idea!!
✩ ‒ I wasn't going to do everyone but they came out really short so I made it up by adding more characters ^w^
✩ ‒ Characters: Caelus, Dan Heng, Welt, Gepard, Sampo, Luocha, Jing Yuan, Blade
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✩ ‒ Caelus
He’s not the biggest plushie guy out there, but come on. You made it so cute and all.
He keeps it safe in his room and does a pretty good job at keeping it clean. Like dust free and all.
Caelus isn’t ashamed of it by any means, everyone knows about it. He just doesn’t want to end up tearing it or something which is why it's always in his room.
Big fan. You made a couple of yourself and he keeps them together. They're together like the two of you are. He’s debating on getting a dedicated shelf.
✩ ‒ Dan Heng
He originally received two. One of his normal self and then his Vidyadhara half. It’s so accurate, too. He definitely spent a few hours analyzing them both.
He wasn’t sure at first but the longer he had it, the more he began to like it. He kinda sleeps with it now. I mean... they're just on his bed and that's where he sleeps...
You’re welcome to make more but he doesn’t have room to place them. Besides… how many could you possibly make?
He actually likes the little dragon one. It’s so cute, the details are well done, and you seem to really like it too.
✩ ‒ Welt
Aww, a plushie for him? It was so cute! It even had his lil cane and all. Honestly, Welt loves it.
He keeps it with him all the time. When you often go off on missions, he likes to hold it for comfort.
When you made one of yourself, he decided the plushies could never be separated- much like you two. So, basically now he carries two plushies with him at all times.
Pom Pom and Himeko gush over the cuteness of the plushie. You’re really talented, why not start a business at this point? You'll definitely get March or Stelle asking for one too.
✩ ‒ Gepard
He was confused at first. Why did you make a plushie of him? But he really liked it. You even got the shield right.
He prefers it to stay at home where his fellow guards can’t see it because it’s a little embarrassing. He’s a grown man and all.
Ok, but it’s so cute. The little hair, the outfit- the shield! Come on? How is he supposed to remain composed? He will stare at it sadly when he has to go to work.
He had to admit, when you made one of yourself it felt complete. The plushies are always sitting together on his bed. Sometimes, he'll even put a blanket over them to keep them warm.
✩ ‒ Sampo
Omg once he gets one, it's on his person permanently. He loves seeing you work on them, too. It gives him a perspective on how much work you put into them
He’ll give suggestions all the time and you do make most of them. You often make yourself as well and it leads to lots of matching plushies.
Sampo did try to make one himself but it looked horrendous. He tried to throw it away but you wouldn’t let him!
That thing haunts his dreams but you like it for whatever reason. Honestly, Sampo takes that thing everywhere and even learned how to wash it properly.
✩ ‒ Luocha
The accuracy. His hair, eyes, outfit, the coffin- it even opens! Like, the effort that went into that was phenomenal.
Luocha is a big fan and does keep the plushie with him during his travels but keeps it hidden. It's something that reminds him of you (ironic since it looks like him).
He’s rather protective of the plushie. Someone once tried to take it and well… he almost stuffed them in the coffin. Lmao jk.
… ok, he did it once and never again, you can’t judge him, that’s his plushie. You gave it to him, not that rando. And no, it wasn't a kid! Why do people keep asking him that?
✩ ‒ Jing Yuan
Mind blown. Seriously, the talent that took was incredible! You even made a Lightning Lord plushie which attaches to the Jing Yuan one.
He keeps them on his desk at work and no one is allowed to touch them. He's worried others might damage them, but he wants to show them off at the same time.
He keeps the one you made of yourself with him though. It’s his good luck charm. Much like you.
Secretly hates tearing apart the plushie version of you and him. Heartbreaking when they have to see each other go. Sniff.
✩ ‒ Blade
Ok, listen. This is Blade we’re talking about. He can’t just be seen carrying a plushie- and of himself, no less. It’s embarrassing.
Is what he thought until he saw how sad you got when you found out he left it in a drawer. On the pain in his heart…
Now he keeps it on his person all the time. He even learned how to wash it because it’ll get dirty sometimes. No blood gets on it though, don't worry. Just some minor dirt or something.
For tougher missions, he puts the plushie in a plastic bag to keep it safe. It’s like a good luck charm of his. He lost it once and he almost had a heart attack.
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