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#i have more but those are the ones I've been holding in recently
rascalentertainments · 16 hours
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Wish Granted 🌟👩🏾🎶 (Wish Reimagined)
Chapter 2: Into the Woods
Chapter 1
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As the trees closed behind him, Flazino slowly followed the well worn path into a small community, featuring many homes that were surrounded by nature. No magic was required or allowed here, for everything was built or crafted by hand from the ground up.
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(Look how beautiful these look! They would've looked so good in 2D! I haven't really seen a whole lot of art for the Hamlet concept, so for extra reference, imagine the homes looking similar to Pacha's village)
The abundance and depth of the trees in the Uncharted Forest kept the people of this haven safe from the eyes of Magnifico. Those who realized his true intentions with their wishes fled here, where they could live in peace and save their families from a terrible fate.
Although it was late into the night, the people here were wide awake in preparation for their own ceremony. Which is exactly each month the young apprentice would take his monthly trip here.
He was greeted by an old man who was holding a mandolin and a warm smile on his face. "Young Flazino! You're just in time, the ceremony will beginning soon."
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No sooner had the boy dismounted from the horse, he was caught in a tight hug by the old man. Though was smaller than other residents, his heart was as big as the forest itself. Flazino couldn't help but smile back as returned the hug.
"It's good to see you again too, Sabino." He said with a laugh. He took the bags off his back and started unpacking the supplies from it: Extra clothes, seeds to grow fruits and vegetables, food he was able to sneak away from the day's meals and a few toys for the children there.
"Sorry its not as much as usual. I've been having this strange feeling I'm being watched recently, so I didn't have time to get more..." Flazino sighed.
Sabino shook his head. "That's alright, lad. Every little bit helps. You've done so much for us this past year. We can't ask for a better friend." he patted the boy on the shoulder. "Come now, you can at least stay, have some food and chat for a while before you go."
He called over two other men to gather the supplies. "Alan, Howard, would you mind taking these and passing them to others?" The men did as instructed and Flazino followed Sabino a little further into the woods where right in the center of it, people were gathered around each other while most of them held bright colored ribbons in their hands.
Flazino knew very well what was happening. Just as the rulers of Rosas had a wish ceremony at the end of each month, the people of the Hamlet had an event of their very own. In order to keep their remaining wishes from Magnifico, each resident that turned 18 or older in that month would write their greatest wishes on ribbons and tie them to an old olive tree on top of a hill. In hopes that one day they will come true, without the fear of them being broken by the King.
An older woman announced that it was clear to travel to the tree, that there were no signs of spies or guards of Rosas near. She led the young people up the hill.
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As the two of them began to follow the group, Sabino heard a small, but loud, "Baaa! Baaaa!" 🐐
He looked down and saw a baby goat rubbing his head against his leg and it looked up at the old man with a smile.
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"Oh! Valentino! Nice to see you too!" Sabino said with a laugh as he picked up the goat and rubbed his head. "I bet you're as excited as me, hehe."
"There you are! How many times have I told you not run off like that without me? You could've gotten hurt." A concerned voice came from the distance. It came from a teen girl, with a worried yet annoyed look on her face as she approached. It seems like her pet did this a lot.
"Oh, don't be so dramatic, Asha." He waved a dismissive hand at her. "He's just excited. Just like me. Isn't that that right?" Sabino said as he nuzzled the goat's nose. "Baaa!" Valentino said in agreement.
Asha gently took Valentino in her arms and (finally) greeted Flazino. "Good to see you again, Flaz. I hope that our 'favorite' rulers are treating you well." she said with a hint of sarcasm.
Sabino joined the group, presumably to have a bit of a music session with his musician friends at the top. They all shared a love for music and found kinship with each other through their passions, so it was understood.
Flazino rolled his eyes and smirked at Asha. "Oh yeah. Being a sorcerers' apprentice is great! I run errands, invite some newcomers to their possible doom, Feed a deadly feline that literally wants to bite the hand that feeds him and oh yeah, try to write another song about how great the king is!" He said the last part with fake enthusiasm. "You know he made me a write a part that said: '♬ I let you live here for free, and I don't even charge you rent!♬' ?"
Asha raised an eyebrow hearing this. "Um, isn't that the same thing?" she asked.
"THAT'S WHAT I SAID TO HIM!" Flazino exclaimed and put his arms out in exasperation.
Asha couldn't help but laugh. Given that the guy had to deal with two royal pains and their spoiled exotic pet everyday, he had to vent to somebody, and Asha was always there to listen. He's helped keep the Hamlet safe for two years, he's at least earned it. Not to mention he tries to learn to use some of Amaya's potions in secret.
Asha herself ventured regularly in her dairy. She was completely fed up with hiding from the people that ruined their lives. As a child, she did see the world with wonder, but as she grew older, Asha started to see the world outside the Hamlet a bit more harshly. She just wanted one day see the world again without fearing for her family's safety. Asha had seen the cruelty of Maginifico. When his false sincerity was gone....he was a monster.
While the two of them (and Valentino) chatted and exchanged information on Rosas, Sabino and about ten people made their way up to the hill.
(We see in a faraway shot that Sabino is actually making his way ahead faster than some of his friends in excitement, telling them jokingly to pick up their pace, only for him to have to slow down himself, out of breath.)
It was a little long, but once they saw that tree adorned with ribbons as colorful as their wishes, it was always worth it.
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As each individual tied their ribbon to the tree, they looked to the stars shining brightly above them if only they could hear the wishes in their hearts. There were days that it hurt to even put them out there. It was a high chance that they never get granted, but they had to try, right?
One older man was left in line, but as he looked at tree, he started to have doubts. What if it never came true? Was it even a dream worth keeping? He took a few steps back and apologized to the old woman. "I'm sorry, Germaine. I'm...just not ready." He said, with a touch of sadness in his voice.
The woman shook her head. "No need to apologize, Manuel. You can make your wish whenever you're truly ready." She said as she patted him on the shoulder.
The man nodded and proceeded back down the hill, passing by the other wishers. Sabino quickly gave him a comforting hug. "Don't be ashamed of your wish. Its a beautiful one." He whispered to Manuel.
This gave the man a bit of comfort, but he failed to realize that the ribbon he placed in his pocket earlier was now gone. Once the others had begun to return to the bottom, Sabino stayed back and quickly put the ribbon in his own pocket. He couldn't help but chuckle to himself, "Hehehehe! *cough cough cough* ahem..." Luckily no one saw that...
Not long after, the young apprentice knew it was time to leave. He was given the requested mushrooms, said his goodbyes and gave Achilles the signal to depart. The tree entrance once again opened to let Flazino out, he waved goodbye to his Hamlet friends and watched as the trees closed behind him.
The horse took off in a dash once more leaving the Hamlet behind. However, he wasn't quite alone. We then see a closeup on a patch of open bushes, with a pair of glowing green feline eyes peering through, watching the boy leave. A devious smile appeared below it, then the face disappears into the black.
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As some time passes, we see how the people hear take care of each other and live their lives. A few of them are washing clothes in a nearby river, others are making their own flour, and later bread. Both the men and women tend to a large field, where they plant seeds of various fruits and vegetables. Many of these end up producing large harvests for the people.
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(Seriously, these concepts arts are GORGEOUS. And I've read a lot of Art books, but Wish's is on a new level!)
Another scene passes and Asha is seen reading to a group of kids, as they listened in wonder about a magical fairy that loved to help others in need.
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The montage then cuts to the inside of Asha's family cottage, her mother Sakina had just finished making a couple new clothes for their neighbor's young sons. "Asha, I'll be back soon to give Hans these clothes. And Saba...?"
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Sabino was in his chair snoring away, when he was startled by Sakina's question. "Huh? What? Where am I?" He looked around in supposed confusion.
Sakina raised in eyebrow. She loved Sabino, but there were times he tried to be sly, especially with Asha. "Don't get into any foolishness." she warned.
Sabino let out a loud yawn that woke Valentino up, who actually was sleeping by his feet. "Oh, fine. Fine. I'll keep an eye on the girl. "Riiiiight after my nap." he said in a groggy tone. He slowly leaned back in his chair and back to snoring.
Sakina took a moment, sighed and proceeded put the door.
Ten seconds later, Sabino opened one eye and made sure the overbearing mother was gone. Once the coast was clear, he leaped to his feet and grabbed his mandolin. Valentino followed the old man curiously as he proceeded to find Asha.
"Well, goodnight Saba." his granddaughter yawned as she started heading upstairs. She stops once she hears her saba's voice behind her.
"Asha, would you mind coming with me before we turn in for the night? I'd like to show you something important..."
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Little did Asha know that her life would soon change forever, thanks to one wish of her own....
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Woo-hoo! Chapter 2 is done! I wanted to wait until I finally finish "Kingdom of Wishes", so now with that read though complete, I've gone back to writing this little story/movie! This one was a little shorter, but I was able to find lots of wonderful concept art pictures from not only Wish, but also other Disney films! I even found some perfect horseback scenes added them to Chapter 1, if you'd like to check it out!
The thing I wanted to show here is that while Sabino does have wisdom, he's a cheeky old man. 😆 I actually based him off of the grandmother from Mulan, so he has that extra kick to him. We haven't really had a fun elderly man character in Disney since "UP", and I wanted to bring the fun from past elder characters into this. In the actual film, Sabino did feel like a character and I liked Victor Garber voicing him, but we never get any time towards him. His whole character was done dirty, and he's just nearly cut from the film until the very end. Disney cut out HIS OWN SONG. The ENTIRE reason the plot even started, the reason Asha wanted to get the wishes back, and THEY CUT IT OUT. FOR PETE'S SAKE, MAN—
For this story, Saba's in his 80's but acts like a kid sometimes, and just wants Asha to have that same spirit again, since she lost the fun part of herself after her father died. She can still be kind, but her positive outlook is practically non-existent.
Also, a fun bit I came up with is that everyone else in the Hamlet is named after a Disney music composer, from the past and present. Even better, Lin Manuel's name is mentioned in the deleted scene, so it fit right in!
And for those who are wondering, yes, Star will be appearing soon! In chapter 3 we're gonna go back to our favorite royal pains, see more of Asha and her family so they can be fleshed out some more and then our sparkling boy is going to appear. Plus, I really wanted to start off with only a little humor since the story is more serious at this point. But then when Star comes in, he's gonna bring in a lot more fun and joy to the table. Plus, this is the first time I'm writing a fantasy based story here. I usually write sci-fi and/or superhero stories, so I pray I'm doing this right. 😅
I love to hear your comments, so make as many as you want, and I'll see you guys in chapter 3!
Thanks for reading!
@annymation @signed-sapphire @oh-shtars @kenihewa @chillwildwave @tumblingdownthefoxden @wings-of-sapphire @emptyblog7 @lazytitans-world @mythartist21 @kstarsart @uva124 @spectator-zee
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wayfayrr · 3 days
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Hello!
Its about self aware au link i want to ask,,
What do you think about how link reacts when i play two games at the same time?
Like for example, recently ive been re playing totk and try to do all the side quests and grinding like dragon farming(waiting time so long) and to distract myself while im waiting for it to recharge, im playing OoT in my 3DS(and maybe even saying to the tv "look linkyyyy its yours distant grandpa") 😭
How will the two links react to it? Will they be upset? Confused? Making some weird plot? I do wonder😭😭😭
I need two games at the time to maximize busyness
I hope the ask wasnt too long! I hope you have a good day!💕
Me when I pause anything to play colourful stage on my phone 💀 Zelda is good but nothing can break the hold Miku has on me, and you gotta do those daily challenge missions right? I did one while answering this and was ONE note off of a full combo I almost cried
I think he'd be less bothered by the fact that you didn't completely turn off his game to play another yk? it'd be one thing if you were going between totk and a Mario game - or god forbid totk to sksw or botw
you're still somewhat focused on the link who's on the main screen, he's just taking a backseat as you wait for the dragons to recover. It's fine, he's fine, not jealous one little bit. Not even as you pull out your ds and... You're playing with another link? Sure he's still there, standing around, waiting, with his strings cut. Standing still, maybe facing the screen if he was lucky with how you left him - could he dare move himself to face you if he wasn't already. No he couldn't you'd notice something was off with him wouldn't you? Yeah you're still focused enough that that could cause issues. Until the dragon starts glowing again. And you're still focused on that other guy.
Meanwhile little time (that's something intresting too, should it be proper lu time back in a child's body or would he be someone different again. Maybe for different playthroughs... also the angst of baby time getting out and seeing what should have been his fate with the hero's shade??? sobbing) is relishing that you see him as being worthy of more attention. Well until it hits him that he's only a placeholder for you to wait out a ten minute timer (yeah I've done the dragon wait a bunch - my go too was writing or revising during it sdgsfdgvs)
in other words I think they could both be bitter at each other and if it wasn't for the fact that they're older and (possibly) more mature, I think it would be a very very similar situation to what menace wrote out here Heck if we're going with a younger time I could see him getting into trouble to draw your attention back onto him with tears maybe even retaliating if it carries on long enough. But the only reason there's an issue is because it's explicitly another zelda game. if it was a different one or another genre entirely then it wouldn't be any issue whatsoever <3
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anyone who thought to check this out gets to know that toya aoyagi is my voice claim for tears :) I love him and his voice is just *chef's kiss* I also got his birthday card in 30 pulls :3
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varietysky · 1 year
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the year's nearly over, is this a safe space to air some of my recent gripes about the gh0sts fandom?
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edit: privated but recently unprivated hehe
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reiderwriter · 6 months
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Can I request a Spencer babying the reader BAU and everyone on the team is so done with it but reader is confused and oblivious...?
A/N: Thank you for your request! I've been very much feeling post-Prison/ later seasons Spencer recently, so I hope you enjoy this fic!
Warnings: mostly fluff, implied age-gap, slight mentor/mentee dynamic.
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Your first year in the BAU would've been tough had it not been for Doctor Spencer Reid.
It was tough still, but without him, you don't think you'd have been able to handle much of it. He'd been your mentor through each case, taking you under his wing when he wasn't on academic leave, teaching his criminology courses at the FBI Academy.
Those weeks were the hardest, and you found yourself moping about in the office, texting him once or twice a trip for advice.
On one particularly hard case, he'd come back into the office after you'd text. Not to consult on the case, but just to drop you off a chamomile tea and a pastry to brighten your day that little bit.
When he was back, your days were great. He knew so much, and you learnt so much from him so quickly, eagerly consuming his every word. You were so eager to please him that you often forgot others around the two of you.
“Spencer, if you're done fawning after Y/N we have a case to work on,” Emily gently chastised the man as he pulled out your chair for you, ready to sit down to hear the details of your next crime.
“Oh, Emily, thank you, but it's okay. Doctor Reid was just being considerate, I'm sure he'd have done it for anyone.” The shared glances around the room were filled with glib secrecy, but no-one commented further, leaving you slightly baffled.
Those shared looks between the other members of your team had become more common as of late, with each one more worrisome than the next. There was something unsettling about being the only one out of the loop, and as the newest member of the team, and the youngest, it often felt disheartening.
“Y/N, don't worry. Being the youngest member of any team is tough, but you're smart and you're holding your own.” With a pat to your head he walked away, lifting the weight off your shoulders slightly but not fully. You needed to get to the bottom of the BAU's non-verbal communications, and you needed answers.
Your first technique was interrogation. Surely one of them would break and tell you if you laid out your thoughts and feelings clearly.
Surely not, you found, as each member casually and softly blew you off.
“Y/N, you just need to think carefully about how certain members of the team act towards you. How familiar they are. How overly familiar they are.” Tara had at least told you that much, bit it had left you just as confused as the radio silence from the others.
“Everyone has behaved very professionally with me. You've all been very welcoming up to this point, which I appreciate greatly.”
“I wouldn't count gifting you flowers for your first successful case as the most professional act, Y/N,” she said as she sipped her coffee. “But I suppose that is just up to interpretation.
Doctor Reid had sent you flowers after you finished your first case. But there had been extenuating circumstances in that case. You'd both worked on the geographical profile on that case, and together had figured out the species of flower the unsub was using was only cultivated on one local flower orchard. It had cracked the case open and you'd found your unsub hours later.
So the flowers were an extension of that small joint success. That was all.
Your second attempt at figuring out what was going on was observation.
Partially taking Tara’s advice, you tried your best to track the moments when each of the weary looks would come your way.
Overwhelmingly, they seemed to be directed towards Doctor Reid whenever the two of you interacted.
You had to gently inform him of this, before it interrupted both of your abilities to work.
“Doctor Reid, do you know why Emily and Rossi are both currently watching us from between the blinds in their offices?” You whispered to the man, leaning in close to his ear. You were quite sure he didn't know, but a question seemed as good a way as any to broach the topic.
“I do, yes. It's best if you ignore them.”
His nonchalance in the matter shocked you, so sure you were that this would be news to him. You waited for him to elaborate, but he didn't.
“Why are they staring at us?” You finally managed to force the words out in a small squeak, forcing his eyes back to yours.
“Don't worry about it for now, I'll handle it.” He smiled down as you, and the bright gesture washed away more of the tension you'd been feeling in the office. You smiled back at him as he rose from his desk chair and carried himself to the stairs. You giggled when he winked down at you, just as you noticed Emily frantically hurrying away from her office window as Spencer knocked on her door.
As much as he told you to not worry about it all though, you really couldn't help yourself. You found yourself growing more clumsy under the watchful eyes of your entire team, galling more times than you'd care to admit into Doctor Reid's arms. He always caught you, though, and you were thankful you never did yourself serious injury.
You finally got the answers you'd craved out on a case about a month into your struggles.
There was something slightly unsettling about the way the female Sheriff was paying attention to Doctor Reid, and it made you uncomfortable. Your mouth ran dry when she touched his arm, but a small part of you warmed up again when he shrugged her off. Until, at least, you heard him explain why.
“I'm sorry, I'm a germophobe, so I'd really prefer you not touch me.” His voice was calm and steady; it really didn't seem like he was lying.
“You're not pulling my leg? I'm sorry if I came on too strong, but-”
��Why would I pull your leg, I said I don't like physical touch?”
“Well, there was that young girl earlier, Y/N was it? You had your hand on her back as you walked in, so I didn't think…”
The woman had made a good point, and you crept closer to the edge of the door to hear Doctor Reid - Spencer's response.
“Sheriff, if we're done here, do you think I could get back to my job?” You were almost disappointed in the change of topic, but you weren't all that sad to see the Sheriff remove herself from the room. Slipping in behind her you decided to test the new theory that had slipped into your mind in the last minutes.
You called out to him to grab his attention as you walked into the room but before he had the chance to turn and greet you, you threw your arms around his shoulders and pressed your body down against his, enveloping him in a back hug.
It was quite possibly the most familiar position you'd been in with him, but really it wasn't all that different from your usual proximity.
Unlike when the Sheriff casually brushed against him, he didn't stiffen, didn't pull away, but instead melted into your touch, looking up at you with a large grin.
You stood shocked for a minute before grinning back.
“Spencer, I think I know why everyone has been watching us for the last few weeks.” You said, causing his eyes to panic slightly as he acknowledged your words.
“The, uh, the Sheriff was just in here talking about a development either some of the DNA test results-” He desperately tried to change the subject, but you were locked in now, spinning his chair around to face you more as you came eye-to-eye with him.
“I know why the Sheriff was in here, Spencer, I heard it all.”
“It's not what you think,” you paused for a moment as your brow furrowed, trying to figure out if you'd somehow caught the wrong end of the stick.
“So our coworkers haven't been waiting for you to ask me out, having noticed large changes in your body language and attitude around me?”
“It's….exactly as you think.” His face was flushed with pink and your heart skipped a beat at the man in front of you. But you still had some questions.
“And you knew, but you didn't say anything to me despite the fact that I bought it up multiple times?”
“I'm…I'm not good with words," he frowned
“Are you good with dates?”
“Excuse me?”
“You're going to take me on a date when we get back to Quantico. After giving it some thought, Doctor Reid, it seems I've become quite enamoured of you.” You dropped into his lap then, sitting there like a cat pleased to take up residence on its owners legs. He stuttered for a few seconds but then found his voice again, face lighting up.
“Spencer. Please, Y/N, call me Spencer.”
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prokopetz · 2 months
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In recent posts I've complained that a lot of tabletop RPGs which toss around the term "fiction first" don't actually understand what it means, and I've been asked to expand on that complaint. So:
In my experience, there are two ways that game texts which want to position themselves as "fiction first" trip themselves up, one obvious and one subtle.
The first and more obvious pitfall is treating "fiction first" as an abstract ideology. They're using "fiction first" as a synonym for "story over rules" in a way that calls back to the role-playing-versus-roll-playing discourse of the early 2000s. The trouble is, now as then, nobody can usefully explain what "story over rules" actually entails. At best, they land on a definition of "fiction first" that talks about the GM's right to ignore the rules to better serve the story, which is no kind of definition at all – it's just putting a funny hat on the Rule Zero fallacy and trying to pass it off as some sort of totalising ideology of play.
A more useful way of defining "fiction first" play is to think of it not in terms of whether you engage with the rules at all, but in terms of when they're invoked: specifically, as a question of order of operations.
Suppose, for example, that you're playing Dungeons & Dragons, and you pick up the dice and say "I attack the dragon". Some critics would claim that no actual narrative has been established – that this is simply a bare invocation of game mechanics – but in fact we can infer a great deal: your character is going to approach the dragon, navigating any inclement terrain which lies between them, and attempt to kill the dragon using the weapon they're holding in their hand. The rules are so tightly bound to a particular set of narrative circumstances that simply invoking those rules lets us work backwards to determine what the context and stakes must be for that invocation of the rules to be sensical; this, broadly speaking, is what "rules first" looks like.
Conversely, let's say that your game of Dungeons & Dragons has confronted you with a pit blocking your path, and you want to make an Athletics check to cross it. At this point the GM is probably going to stop you and say, hold up, tell us what that looks like. Are you trying to jump across it? Are you trying to climb down one wall of the pit and up the other? Are you trying to tie a rope to the halfling and toss them to the other side? In other words, before you can pick up the dice, you need to have a little sidebar with the GM to hash out what the narrative context is, and to negotiate what can be achieved and what's at stake if you mess it up; this, broadly, is what "fiction first" looks like.
At this point I know some people are thinking "wait, hold on – both of those examples were from Dungeons & Dragons; are you saying that Dungeons & Dragons is both a rules-first game and a fiction-first game?" And yeah, I am. That's the second, more subtle place where game texts that talk about "fiction first" go astray: they talk about it as though being "fiction first" or "rules first" is something which is inherent to game systems as a whole.
This is not in fact true: being "fiction first" or "rules first" is something which describes particular invocations of the rules. In practice, only very simple games spend all of their time in one mode or the other; most will switch back and forth at need. Generally, most "traditional" RPGs (i.e., the direct descendants of Dungeons & Dragons and its various imitators) tend to operate in rules-first mode in combat and fiction-first mode out of it, though this is a simplification – when and how such mode-switching occurs can be quite complex.
Like any other design pattern, "fiction first" mechanics are a tool that's well suited for some jobs, and ill suited for others. Sometimes your rules are fine-grained enough that having an explicit negotiation and stakes-setting phase would just be adding extra steps. Sometimes you're using the outputs of the rules a narrative prompt, and having to pin the context down ahead of time would defeat the purpose. Fortunately, you don't have to commit yourself to one approach or the other; as long as your text is clear about how you're assuming a given set of rules toys will be used, you can switch modes as need dictates. However, you're not going to be capable of that kind of transparency if you're thinking in terms of "this a Fiction First™ game".
(Incidentally, this is why it can be hard to talk about "fiction first" with OSR fans if you're being dogmatic about fiction-first framing being an immutable feature of particular games. Since traditional RPGs tend to observe the above-described rules-first-in-combat, fiction-first-out-of-combat division, and OSR games tend to treat actually getting into a fight as a strategic failure state, a lot of OSR games spend most of their time in fiction-first mode. If you go up to an OSR fan and insist that D&D-style games can never be fiction-first, then attempt to define "fiction first" for them and proceed to describe how they usually play, they'll quite justifiably conclude that you have your head up your ass!)
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violetarks · 3 months
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third year! bakugou katsuki thinks it's pathetic how everyone tries to ask you to be their valentine while you stand absolutely awkwardly and oblivious to their advances.
he rolls his eyes, scoffing at how you tilt your head and ask 'what do you mean?' when a new second-year tries to confess through a heartfelt letter a week before valentines day. he's sitting in the cafeteria, a few tables away from you where you stand with your tray. his friends catch his line of sight and begin to watch too as you awkwardly take the letter and mention how it's your favourite colour, what a coincidence.
"man, poor y/n." kaminari sighs, "been getting bombarded with valentine's day proposals."
"acting like you werent one last year." sero snickers, elbowing the blonde, who replies with 'shut up!'.
"y/n, todoroki and momo have to be the most popular third years. i saw todoroki carrying a fruit arrangement yesterday with 'be my valentine' on some flags." mina states, drinking her orange juice.
jirou retorts, poking her food, "did you see y/n's shoe locker when they opened it? they were basically drowning in all those letters. and their desk was full of teddy bears and hearts and flowers."
"yaoyorozu told me that she felt so bad because she rejected someone who choreographed a flash mob for her." kirishima inputs, "but seriously, so many people have tried getting with y/n, it's insane."
katsuki only rolls his eyes again as you thank the person, who runs away giddily. you're so uninterested in the person that you just pocket it in your blazer for later. katsuki chuckles at the action before returning to his food.
he thinks it's so funny that everyone is fawning over you. he understood todoroki and yaoyorozu, they've been popular since day one. but you? what did anyone see in you?
"hey, bakugou, are you alright?" you ask, standing in front of him on the porch of the dormitory. it's now five days later and he blinks himself back to reality and swallows the lump in his throat. "you were kinda' just staring at me and that girl just then..."
it's true, he was. a first year, some lovesick teen girl, came to confess to you just then. you hold some chocolates in your hand and a bouquet of roses in another. your third this week, he tallies.
"i—i wasn't." he stammers, looking away. he was leaning against the pillar, watching you as he took in some fresh air. it was pure coincidence, he says. "what... did you tell 'em?"
"i felt a bit sorry, she cried a little when i said i'm not a fan of this kind of chocolate." you express, showing him the box. katsuki smirks. you were so blunt. "i still accepted it though, to make her feel better. i don't even know her, though."
"strange." he responds, staring at you, "so what now then?"
"do you want it?"
"i don't want your fucking confession candy." he scoffs, furrowed brows. he's irritated at the offer and you just tuck the chocolates underneath your arm. "why'd you say 'no'?"
"i... don't know her." you state as if it was obvious. he blinks and looks away. "i dunno', i've been getting asked a lot recently."
"that so?" it's so pathetic, how anyone would trip and fall at your feet at the slight chance to share valentine's day with you. he could think of a thousand things better to do tomorrow than spend it with you—
"how come you haven't asked me yet?" you inquire, pursing your lips, "to be your valentine?"
"hah?" he huffs out, making the most outraged expression on his face, "what the hell did you just say to me?"
you sigh, opening the entrance door with your new gifts, "nevermind."
he stares at you as you leave him alone on the porch. questions swirl in his mind, making him think about you even more. is this how you made so many admirers? you just... made them think about you? you were absolutely crazy.
that's got to me the most pathetic thing about valentine's day, right?
wrong.
katsuki annoyedly drops the chocolates that he knows for sure you love. and as he passes the flower section, oh god, the amount of time he spent trying to figure out which ones were the perfect ones. the cashier looks at him knowingly, wishing him 'goof luck' on his endeavour. katsuki scoffs and tells them to shut his mouth.
what's pathetic is that katsuki readies himself for asking you. now that he's got confirmation that you were expecting him to, he would do it. he is standing in front of your dorm door, holding the flowers and chocolates and teddy bear in his arms. he knows you have hundreds in your room right now, but... he's pathetic.
when his hand goes up to knock on your door, the elevator reaches the floor and opens to reveal you in the sports uniform.
you walk up, typing on your phone when you look up to your dorm to see him. "oh, hey."
"hey." he mumbles, trying his best to hide the presents behind his back, "went on a run?"
"no, quirk training, actually." you respond, unlockong your dorm. you walk in and turn your head. "did you need to talk to me?"
"well... i—"
"are those for valentine's day?" you point to the flowers that are badly hiden behind him.
katsuki grunts, finally revealing them, "y—yeah... i don't know how to do this."
"come in." you say, inviting him into your dorm. he nervously enters and closes the door behind him. you sit at our desk, leg over your knee, almost like you're inspecting him thoroughly. "so, who is it for?"
he stops. "huh?"
"i mean, who are you asking?" you mumble out. he doesn't know what to say. do you not remember asking him to ask you yesterday? "you're looking for advice, aren't you?"
suddenly, he's on the fire. he's in the position that he made fun of those other people for being in. and it fucking sucks.
it takes all his courage to sigh out, "no... no, you idiot. i'm asking you."
"wha—? me?" you point at yourself.
"yes! here!" he practically shoves them into your hands and steps away away. "i... want you to be my valentine tomorrow. please."
his harsh tone makes you rethink his statement. but katsuki sees a smile dawn on your face regardless, something the others who have asked you haven't seen.
"thank you, bakugou. i love them."
he knows damn well you do.
"i'd be happy to be your valentine." you confirm, standing up and placing the flowers on your desk. you put the chocolates and teddy on your bed, smiling the whole time. he gulps in anticipation, despite you already saying 'yes'. "thank you, truly. it's perfect."
katsuki clears his throat, hands in his pockets and he looks away, "'s nothin'."
you chuckle and step towards him, hand on his shoulder as you give him a gentle kiss on the cheek.
"whatever you say. where did you wann' go tomorrow?"
he thinks it's pathetic how on valentine's day, you drag him to all the couple stalls and events, and even do a hand-reading (katsuki lets out a sigh of relief when they said that you two are quite the perfect match), but when it's with you, it's a lot less embarrassing to do it. in fact, he'd relive this whole day again if he could.
what's pathetic is how all those people thought they could have this time with you, when all you ever wanted was bakugou katsuki himself.
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blingblong55 · 5 months
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No Judgement- Simon "Ghost" Riley
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---- F!Reader, fluff, dad!Ghost, husband!Ghost, mentions of dad-bod!Ghost ----
A/N: I've been having baby fever for about a week now and recently saw a tiktok and…it made me emotional for some reason so…here's this piece I wrote
Simon was the man who saw himself living in war and dying in it and then you came into his life. For some reason only he knows, he found himself being more careful during missions. Before you, he would rush into a room without care and now, he is more cautious. All because he wants to make it home, to a warm and cosy house. To your arms and loving kisses and to those three kids he swears he'll forever love.
You dated him for 2 years before he knew that you were it for him. Two years and five months, that is what took him to get on his knee and ask you to marry him. Oh if only Tommy was here to see this, that laugh he would have. Before you, Simon didn't show much emotions, besides anger or that cold and rude one he presented himself with. Now, all he can do is talk and talk about all he feels and most of the time, he shows that love and raw emotion through actions.
He didn't cry before you either, except for when his family died but when he saw you walk down the aisle, he couldn't contain the tears. Soap patted his back without judgement for he knew the girl walking to the groom was the one who made the crying groom's heart beat once again. Three years into the marriage, you become pregnant with your first child, a son and oh was Simon delighted.
He was prepared for it all, took courses, read books and made sure the home was baby proof of course, you took the role of being the princess, not a finger lift from you or he would pretend to get upset at it. He needed to protect you, even from the corners of the table, which he of course made sure were ready in case you or the kid would bump into them.
One baby and a puppy later, Simon Riley was a father and for the first two years, he took leave from the military and focused on you and the baby. His eyes are like his father and his energy is just like his. There were days when Simon cried, from sadness and happiness. For one, he was sad his mother didn't get to meet his son and he was happy that for the first time in so long, he knew what a family was like. Lazy Saturdays and Sundays, laying under a tree in the back yard, the grass all nice and soft so the baby would learn to crawl and eventually walk. The puppy watching with the guard, just in case the baby fell.
Simon was always there, for motivation, protection and love. He wanted to ensure that he wouldn't fuck up with this life of his. Soon enough though, he went back to work but he made sure to always have his family in mind. The giggles, the lullabies, smiles and that sweet emotion he had when he watched you and his son. It was bittersweet but so beautiful.
The birth of your second son came as no surprise when Simon once walked to you, shirtless and holding his son with one arm. For some reason that sight alone provoked you to want a second child, which as the loving husband Simon is, he obliged. Nearly ten months and he was by your side, holding your hand, letting you grip it and cry as your second little one came into the world. That cute nose and that smile, what a delight to be a mother to a whole new little light of life.
The holidays became more chaotic as the two boys grew up. Simon slowly left the military, doing fewer missions and being home more often. He began to grow a soft tummy and muscles, something he grew to be insecure about but with plenty of hours of cuddling one night and many kisses that included sweet nothings to his ear, he loved this new him. He wasn't his father but rather the best dad those two little monsters could ever ask for. His beard grew a little and you began to love this sight of him, it was beautiful really. So much so, that one day, as he was doing push-ups with his sons on his back and how they giggled, you teared up.
Making a home was easy but making a happy family was hard and rewarding. Before you knew it, Simon was carrying the kids around the living room, letting them beat him in a playful game of fighting and tag. The giggles around the house, the way Simon smiled like he had entered heaven, that is what made you tear up the most. This is home.
During the holidays, Simon gets so excited that he overdoes it all. He dresses like Santa Claus, eats the biscuits, drinks milk and even gets a treat from the woman of the house. A sneaky little kiss before Santa has to leave for other homes. "I've heard the woman who lives here is the most beautiful, maybe she'll kiss me as a little treat?" He smiles, pleading with those eyes of his. And who could you be to deny him of a sweet kiss?
For the first 5 years of being a proud dad to his two sons, Simon would wear matching outfits with them. It was sweet, watching him get excited like a child, trying to dress his sons up and take them for a walk.
There is one thing he was always making sure would be a rule at home and that is how they treated you. No son of his would be discarding a woman, no son of his would be disrespectful and no son of his would not see how much it takes being a mum and one who works and keeps a home clean and steady. And you bet he taught his sons how to clean and cook later in life.
One warm Spring day came in when you told him the news. Baby number three would be on her merry way. Just like before but with some slight changes, he spoke to your belly. He kissed it, read to it and told his jokes to it. His warm hands are placed on your soft belly when he looks up at you, "Thank you," his eyes are watery and you tilt your head just a bit. "For what?" you ask.
"For giving me a family, for making a home with me. Lovie, before you, I was truly nothing, just a man in a borrowed body and now, I have reason to own this old body of mine. I'm a husband and a dad, I love you," he kisses you and then your belly.
After the birth of your daughter, he like your two sons carried her in a camouflage carrier. A pink bow is one of the little patches. 'Baby girl Riley' is one of those patches as well.
As time went on, he transformed into a retired military officer. Now, he is a full-time dad. Night shifts and diaper changes were his duty as well as your comfort. With more time, he had a softer tummy, his dad bod making him insecure some days but as always, you were there to reassure him it was normal and it was beautiful.
There have been moments when you catch yourself being mesmerised by him.
For instance, when he plays dolls with your daughter or he gets into his role of the cashier when playing grocery. His sass when your daughter doesn't hurry up paying with her card or cash and how he calls her sweetheart any time she pays. There was one time when you saw him sat down on the sofa, watching telly all as your daughter did his makeup, hair and how she gossips with him and he gossips back. By the end of the day, he asks you to undo the tiny rubber bands from his hair.
Before he retired, you found him sitting by his desk, toys all over it as he wrote a report, played and gave his attention to his sons and this was because you were tired and he wanted to give you extra hours of sleep.
He became a football coach for your son's team, every Saturday he was on that field, whistling and shouting for when they make a goal. Of course, you and your daughter sat on the bleachers, eating snacks and cheering for the young footballer of your son. Simon of course would have dark cargo jeans and in most pockets, he had snacks for all his kids. "Daddy, mummy says you have my gummies," his youngest son would softly say and Simon would just pat his bottom pocket and his son would soon take out his gummies.
As his daughter grows old, it's his dad duty to not allow his daughter to date some idiot so, he makes sure to take her on dates, bring her flowers and make her understand how a man should treat her. When he and his two sons go to a different city for some sporting event, he comes back with two bouquets, one for you and one for his princess.
Since he didn't have a stable childhood, Simon, during winter buys everyone matching pyjamas. It just makes things 110% better in his opinion and who can deny a man with easy needs such a cute need? Never you, certainly.
By the time he reaches forty-three, Simon has his entire camera roll filled with pictures of his beautiful family and the occasional picture of a bird he thinks the kids would like to see.
Now, as you lay in bed with him, he turns to you, "I think I have lived this life to its fullest, lovie," he smiles and caresses your face. "Hm, yeah?" you lean into his touch and he nods like a little kid. "I mean, I have three amazing monsters, I am getting to see past thirty and I have always wanted a hot and funny wife, so I know for a fact that I have lived the best of it," he kisses your hand and holds it as he falls asleep.
A/N: Sometimes, I want a husband, a picket fence and lazy weekends with our kids bursting through the door in the morning and feeling like I made it in life…anyway…bye!
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genshin-obsessed · 6 months
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Him as a husband | Honkai Star Rail
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✩ ‒ It's been a while since I've wrriten anything for star rail, so I decided to make these cute lil hcs. I'm not branching out to the newest pretty boy yet, I don't know anything about him. I avoided saying Valentine’s Day cuz they're not on earth or whatever.
✩ ‒ I'm also trying to butter y'all up a little for something else I'm planning lmao
✩ ‒ Characters: Caelus, Dan Heng, Jing Yuan, Blade, Luocha
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✩ ‒ Caelus
He's not vocal about being married per se, but people usually know he's married. Other than the ring, he's very unresponsive to flirting. If anyone attempts to flirt with him, he'll just act like he doesn't get it. It makes things awkward and people often leave after.
He's very attentive to you. If you're having a bad day, he'll know pretty much immediately and will do anything and everything to get your mind off of it if you don't want to talk about it.
He loves to celebrate holidays for couples. They're super special days because every day with him is special, but he does go out of his way a little bit to surprise you with something. Could even be food, as long as you're surprised and smiling.
Cuddles are a must. You better hope your rooms are cold at night because he cuddles up to you every single time. He'll either lay his head on your chest or hug you against him, so sometimes it feels really hot in the morning.
Caelus prefers outdoor activities as dates, but isn't opposed to staying in. Movies, snacks, just being with one another isn't so bad. But going to a new planet and fighting baddies is also pretty enticing. More on that, Caelus has near heart attacks when you get hurt- like he saw you get hurt badly once and almost cried. Ok, no, he cried a little.
Children are up to you. He doesn't have much of a preference.
✩ ‒ Dan Heng
"Are you two married? You don't act like it." This has and always will confuse Dan Heng. What the hell does it mean? Is he supposed to be all over you or something? He has class. Though... he will hold your hand more often. Maybe the ring he'll get you for your anniversary might have a ginormous gem so it blinds everyone or something.
He's also pretty attentive to your needs and emotions. The second he thinks you're upset or hurt, he's at your side. He may or may not be a little clingy but he's so terrified of losing you. It's actually changed him for the better a little. He's less quiet, more expressive, and a lot more open to communication. That could also be due to his recent transformation...
He's not overly fond of those "couple days" because he's usually loving all year around. Why have a dedicated day? He has a hard time seeing the point in days like those.
Dates for Dan Heng are usually stay at home. He likes the more intimate activities at home- cuddling, watching movies, making out- yanno. Intimate.
Dan Heng likes kisses. Cheek kisses, neck kisses, shoulder kisses, hand kisses- don't matter. He loves them all. Usually done behind closed doors, Dan Heng never forgets to kiss you. Like, ever. He will also make up for lost kisses.
Um... he prefers no children, but it's something you can talk about later on.
✩ ‒ Jing Yuan
You have your hands full with this one. Everyone and their courier birds will know he's married to you. This man just can't stop talking about you. Like, he'll be receiving a report about something or other and just somehow manages to drop your name in the conversation. It's cute and all, but Jing Yuan, focus!
Sadly, he's a busy man. He comes home to you every single day, don't worry, but he does need to be away for most of the day. He's not the biggest fan of it and has suggested maybe trying to find a position for you to keep you close by. Other than being down right addicted to you, he worries because he's got enemies.
Jing Yuan DOES take time for those fancy couple days but they're not overly different from the usual dates. He used to make it all fancy, with giant bouquets of flowers and expensive jewelry, until he realized he was showering you with love on a specific day and not every day like he should. So, he's toned it down a little, but every now and then, he'll get you something fancy.
There isn't much time for dates. They usually include visiting him during his breaks and enjoying some tea together. Maybe spending time with Mimi or something. But on his days off, he tries really hard to set up something for you.
He kinda likes to hold you. There's nothing wrong with it, its just constant. Like, you're so cute and he just wants to hug you all the time. He does try to control himself in public to avoid making you uncomfortable.
Children? Why? Isn't Yanqing enough?
✩ ‒ Blade
Some people still have a hard time understanding that you actually married him. In your opinion, they're small minded and don't actually know Blade. Blade, himself, doesn't actually care what anyone else thinks. Though, they should mind their manners around you.
Blade can be attentive, but doesn't always know how to help. He's got his own problems, so he usually tries to use them as a reference point. When he feels depressed or lost, what would he do? He tries to help you that way. It doesn't always work, but it does help him learn more and more.
He'll forget any special "couple" days are coming up. Kafka or Silver Wolf mention it and he's always confused about them. He will try to get you something just so you don't feel left out. "Oh my husband didn't get me anything because he doesn't care about today". Never.
Blade likes cuddles, but they hurt. He's got a lot of wounds on his body so he can't hold you the way he likes. Not to mention, the mara, his personal discomfort, lack of understanding. You assure him that it's ok, but he still feels guilty often. You deserve the world, but he can barely give you himself. He does try to hold your hand a lot. You both share the same bed and he sleep extremely close.
There's not many outdoor dates with him other than going on missions which aren't dates. Usually, you two train together and just spend time with one another. Blade is willing to attend an event with you... but he's attached to you. He doesn't know anyone there.
No children. He'd be a terrible dad, sorry.
✩ ‒ Luocha
Now aren't you two an interesting couple? Luocha has a way with words. He'll let potential flirters know he's married way before they can even start flirting with him. He won't even give them the time of day, especially if they're disrespectful toward you.
Of course he's attentive. He's great at recognizing your emotions and understanding what may or may not make it worse. For example, if he attends an event, he'll know what type of people might be too forward for you. Or may know when someone is beginning to make you upset.
Not a fan of those "couple days". He literally rolls his eyes at them, like why would he hold himself back to let it all out on that day? He's all over you, every day. BUT! He does get you a flower or a small box of chocolates... or something else in the bedroom. Idk.
Luocha likes to schedule dates per week so that you can clear up time for them. Just because you have a day off doesn’t mean it needs to be a date night. Maybe you want that day to yourself, who knows? He likes to find a day or two within the week dedicated to actually going out to a restaurant, a picnic, maybe fighting some baddies- who knows. Whatever works for both of y’all.
Luocha likes being close to you, whatever that means to you. He can hold you, hold your hand, just sit close by. Generally, he finds peace around you, so it doesn't matter what you two are doing as long as he can be close to you.
Uhh kids? Are you sure?
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sage-nebula · 14 days
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I've watched pretty much all of Jenny Nicholson's videos (despite not being into most of the things she's into) for a variety of reasons, but one of the reasons I watch her content is because I think that she seems like a truly stand-up kind of person. Of course, given that she is a person creating content for YouTube, we're only allowed to see the version of herself that she wants us to see. I'm under no illusions about that. But the version of herself that she presents to us, the viewers, seems to be a person who is not only genuinely passionate about the things she discusses (and honest about why she'll hold back on discussing certain topics when fans of those topics can be awful about it), but also who considers the experiences of (for lack of a better phrase) the average person when it comes to the theme parks and other experiences that she reviews.
Three specific instances come to mind: one from the Evermore video, and then two from her most recent Star Wars hotel video. (Side note: she was so, so right that Disney marketing is stupid as hell for not letting influencers et cetera use the common names for things. The average person doesn't know what "Galactic Starcruiser" is, but will understand "Star Wars hotel." Get it together, Disney.)
In the Evermore video, Jenny talks about how she emailed Evermore Park ahead of her visit to try to get more information prior to her visit. Things like whether there was a dress code, what she could expect when she arrived there, information that should have been readily available on the website but wasn't. She mentions that she could have mentioned that she's an influencer and that she probably would have gotten a response (because they never emailed her back), but that she deliberately chose not to.
"So I did attempt to email ahead of my visit, trying to ask basic questions about the park and inquire about renting it out. When I did that, I was intentionally vague; I didn't link my channel, and I didn't use my primary email. And I sort of suspect that if I had done the whole influencer song and dance -- said my channel name, my subscriber count -- I might've had better access to the park, and perhaps even a better experience. But that wasn't the point. I didn't want to call ahead. I'm the mystery diner! I'm the undercover boss! If you can't deliver an equivalently good experience for all guests, that's on you and your business." [x]
Then, in the Star Wars hotel video, there were two instances in which Jenny had to reach out to Disney customer support for assistance, and received absolutely nothing in return. The first was when she paid for a photo taking service, but had absolutely no photos taken of her. When she reached out to Disney customer support for a refund, they refused to give her said deserved refund. The second instance was when she had purchased a large droid figure from the hotel, and had it shipped to her house via the Disney shipping service. The Disney shipping service inputted her address incorrectly (in fact I think she says they put in a completely different address altogether), so her droid was lost. Once again she reached out to Disney customer support to find out what she could do about this expensive item she had purchased, only to be told that they couldn't do anything to help her.
In both cases, Jenny took to twitter to post about how Disney was refusing to a.) issue her a refund for a service she paid for but never received, and b.) help her receive an item she'd paid for but never received. Both times, Disney reached out immediately, issued her the refund, and overnighted her lost item. Jenny correctly identifies that they only did this because she's an influencer with a large twitter following, and has this to say in the video:
"They didn't even ask for my phone number. Like someone at Disney just did the legwork to go into the database, look up my booking info, find my phone number and then call me within a day of the tweet going out. And the person who called me was really nice, and I'm thankful he cared to resolve it. BUT, I just always feel very cynical when I try to resolve issues through the appropriate channels available to all customers and nobody will help me until they find out I'm an 'influencer.' I spoke with several other guests who got [the photo taking service] and had the exact same problems as me, and they never got refunds." [x]
And
"But then after I tweeted about it on my twitter account with a lot of followers, Disney suddenly resolved it and they sent me a replacement. They actually overnighted it to me. And along with it they sent a lot of miscellaneous goodies which I really appreciated. So here again, I feel if this had happened to anyone without a lot of twitter followers, they would have had a significantly more frustrating experience." [x]
I feel that this post will probably read as giving Jenny kudos for doing the bare minimum. And I think that on some level, that's true. But it's true because nowadays, many influencers won't even do the bare minimum. They would have Disney immediately issue them a refund, or overnight the droid to them with the additional goodies, and then make posts gushing about how great Disney's customer service is, despite knowing full well that the (again for lack of a better term) average person who doesn't have a huge internet following would never receive that kind of support from Disney. Similarly with Evermore, most influencers would call ahead and flex their follower count to try to get a bespoke experience to then show on their channels. They wouldn't want the same experience everyone else gets. That won't generate good content, in their eyes, and besides, they're better than that. Don't you know who they are?
But Jenny, despite her follower counts, keeps it real. Yes, she appreciates that Disney did give her the deserved refund and did send her the droid + gifts. But she also points out, both times, that if she'd been a person without a large twitter following, they would not have done that, and people in the exact same position she was with the photo service didn't get their deserved refunds. With Evermore, she didn't call ahead because she DOES want the same experience everyone else gets. She wants to be able to give a genuine review. Whether that review is positive or negative is dependent on the business itself.
Again, this probably seems like giving Jenny kudos for the bare minimum of decency. And I agree that on some level it is. But I also think that, in today's day and age, we really don't get that with a lot of influencers, who are in it for the sponsorship money (and who get their egos way inflated), and so it's nice to have a reviewer / theme park influencer who is honest with her opinions, and who recognizes that yeah, Disney did give her special treatment, but that it shouldn't have been special treatment, that they should be helping all of their guests like this, through the normal channels that she tried using, and they are a shit company for not doing that.
I just really appreciate Jenny.
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ambrosiagourmet · 29 days
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In chapter 28, Marcille lays out why the journey she's been on has been worth the pain: because they were able to bring Falin back. The injuries, the indignity, and the mess of it all - they are tolerable primarily in context of destination she believes she's reached at this point.
In truth, of course, the story is far from finished. In fact, I would argue that this is actually where hers really starts. This scene holds the seed of the very thing the Winged Lion will exploit to lead Marcille to become the Lord of the Dungeon. After all, with a desire as far reaching and deeply held as Marcille's, if the only acceptable outcome is success, what other choice does she have but to bargain with the infinite?
So let's talk about this idea - where it leads her, how Laios' path intersects with it, and how they both help each other move forward in the face of failure.
First though, I want to step back and talk about something else: the shapeshifter chapters.
With these chapters recently covered by the anime, there has, of course, come plenty of fun discussions about which version of each character belongs which other character's perceptions, and what that means.
One thing I've seen pointed out a few times is the fact that both Laios and Marcille's impressions of each other are based around Falin. Marcille's version of Laios is larger and more masculine, because those are the traits that stuck out to her in contrast to Falin. Laios' version of Marcille was directly inspired by her appearance and demeanor when resurrecting Falin.
So why is this important to a discussion about Marcille being focused on success? Well, it shows us where Laios and Marcille's relationship starts: built primarily around their shared love for Falin. It's from that shared beginning that they begin to learn about each other on their own terms.
And this is true for the whole group, to be clear. They are united by circumstance - love for a lost companion, a sense of responsibility, a desire for freedom - but they all grow and help each other beyond that circumstance. They help Senshi bury the ghosts of his past and eat some Hippogriff stew. They help Izutsumi open up to mutual love and friendship. And they learn so much about each other: about Chilchuck's family and Laios' love of monsters and Marcille's desires to live life alongside others.
In the particular case of Marcille and Laios, understanding each other is what lets them save each other. It is not through Falin that Laios talks Marcille down from the edge the Lion has brought her to, nor is it through her that Marcille comforts Laios after the demon is defeated, when it is still unclear how everything will work out.
In fact, it is very specifically the unknown fate of Falin that Marcille comforts him about.
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She is willing to accept the outcome - willing, now, to embrace the journey itself, rather than only accepting it as a means to an end.
This is a lesson she learns from Laios, and it's a lesson we watch Laios learn, too.
Just before making her deal with the Lion, Marcille recalls everything that led her to that moment. She lingers on the pain, recalling the worst of their journey:
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She only pushes through by remembering her goals: saving Falin, and equalizing the lifespans of her friends to match her own.
And yet, 10 chapters later, when reflecting on why she actually wants to see her goals through, it is the good parts of that very same journey that shine through.
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There's an inherent contradiction here, one which Marcille doesn't know how to face. How can the suffering that she tolerates also be the love that drives her forward? How can the loss that she's worked so hard to reverse also be the very circumstance that created a world she, now, cannot stand to give up?
And Laios confronts her with the truth. Because it just is.
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Losing Falin forced him to open up to others in a way he never had. It forced him to choose what he cares about, and in making that choice, it gave him the opportunity to be seen. To connect with others.
He has already had to come to terms with the fact that Falin's death has given him something - he would not have been able to kill her again if he hadn't.
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There is something here that is fundamental to Dungeon Meshi's understanding of what life even is. Like, I don't think it's a coincidence that part of Laios' speech to Marcille in chapter 85 is actually first seen in the chapter where they fight off ghosts.
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In 'Sorbet,' while possessed , Laios thinks that it would have been better if the dragon had eaten him, instead of Falin. The ghosts make people lose their will to live - they are dragged away from life.
When he's pulled back from that brink, Laios realizes that he can't move forward without accepting that she is gone. He even compares the way he was holding on to her to being possessed: it pulled him away from life, from the present moment.
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To carry on, he must accept what has been lost, and focus on protecting the life that they still have.
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Like Marcille, he has to accept the contradictions of their journey. That life means eating, and eating requires death. That sometimes one must be selfish in order to be kind, and that selflessness can easily be twisted into to cruelty.
That loss will, inevitably, lead you to find happiness that you may not have found otherwise.
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This is how he gets through to Marcille. And I think part of the reason he reaches her with these specific ideas is because those contradictions are baked so thoroughly into their relationship.
Marcille only met Falin after she had been left behind by Laios. Laios was able to reconnect with Falin because she left Marcille. They both met each other through Falin, and yet they only really got to know and care for one another after she died.
And of course, that's why Marcille uses the same ideas to comfort Laios, in the final chapter. It is because of Laios that she is able to accept the journey for itself, and not need the happy ending to justify its meaning to her.
Together, they help each other move forward, and accept that they may not be able to bring Falin back.
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Which, if I'm being honest... I think this is the reason Falin can come back, narratively speaking, without the resurrection feeling like it takes away from the themes of the story.
After all, she doesn't do it for Marcille or Laios - she does it for her own sake. Her own hunger and her own desire to eat are the things that lead her back to life.
All three of them, together, end the story like this: not clinging to the things they are afraid to lose, but knowing they can choose to move forward together.
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And, importantly, this happy ending is no longer the thing that gives the journey meaning. Rather, it is the privilege of the journey itself that is her happy ending: the chance to walk alongside others in the time they have, to get to know each other, and to eat well.
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Waffles and Cigarettes- Javier Peña x f!reader
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Main Masterlist | Javier Peña Masterlist
Rating: E for EXPLICIT MDNI 18+
Summary: After you are attacked during a night out, your ex boyfriend comes to your rescue
Word Count: 4871
Warnings: Attempted sexual assault (not Javi), violence, descriptions of blood and injuries, fingering, spit as lube, unprotected PIV, kinda rough sex, creampie, angst. absolutely feral, protective ex boyfriend Javi
Author's Note: this is the first thing i've written in like a month so please forgive me if its...blah. i'm just trying to shake the cobwebs off. Also this was supposed to be PWOP just to get back in the groove of things but it true Angela fashion, I was unable to shut the fuck up. thank you to my beloved @catchallfangirl for being my ever faithful beta.
Your heart beats in time to the steady thump thump thump of the music. The vibrations from the bass travel up your legs and straight to your core. Through the haze of tequila you can almost fool yourself that the man grinding on you is him. That those are his arms wrapping around you from behind. His fingers trailing up your thigh, dipping under the hem of your barely there skirt. 
“Damn, baby” He groans in your ear, pressing his erection against your ass. There's no mistaking that he isn't, couldn't ever be, him. He doesn’t sound like him, doesn’t smell like him and he sure as hell doesn’t feel like him. “I bet you feel so good.”
You smack the man’s hand away and try to wriggle from his grasp. That only causes him to hold you tighter against him. With one hand splayed across your middle and the other groping your arm tightly, he begins swaying to the music but  the movement is off beat, disjointed. That’s because he’s slowly walking you backwards. The hallway that leads to the club’s bathrooms is only illuminated by the glowing LED lights of the EXIT sign above the emergency door. Your vision blurs as tears prick your eyes and the dancing strobes on the ceiling become distant. 
His foot catches something and he stumbles, briefly loosening his hold on you. Within seconds he rights himself and attempts to regain control of you but it’s just long enough for you to slip away. The terrifying realization of what almost happened to you sobers you up a little. Enough to reach into your bag and grab your phone. 
You place your thumb on the fingerprint sensor on the screen and his face greets your bleary eyes. It’s been six months but you haven’t been able to bring yourself to change the picture that graces your wallpaper. You have to scroll through your contacts to find his name because it no longer resides in your recent call log. Just before you hit the green phone icon, your phone is knocked from your hand and lands with a crack on the hardwood floor. 
You whirl around to face the man just as he reaches out to grab hold of you once more. You summon every ounce of strength in your body and your arm flies towards his face. The heel of your hand connects with his nose and you push up as hard as you can. Just the way he taught you. The music is loud so you don’t hear the satisfying crunch of cartilage when you break his nose but your nerves begin to calm when he crumples to the floor. Blood drips through his fingers and to the floor. You’ve gathered the attention of the people closest to you. You catch the eye of a group of women seated at a nearby table. They all give you knowing looks and a few slight nods of the head. 
You seize the moment when a couple of men kneel down to help your assailant. You scoop your phone from the floor and spin on your heel and make for the door. You’ve only taken a few steps when you are once again seized from behind. This time it’s one of the club’s security officers. The man twists your arm behind your back and leads you towards the front of the club. He says something into the walkie attached to the shoulder of his uniform but you can’t hear it over the noise. 
The tinted glass of the club’s door blocks all light from the outside and it almost blinds you when the door opens and you are pushed out onto the street. The humid air of the warm Texas night hits your face and when the door swings closed the pounding bass is muffled and your mind finally starts to clear. You lift your unrestrained arm to see the smashed screen of your phone. Fuck.
The phone slips from your grasp once more when the security officer pulls your other arm behind you. The cool metal off the handcuffs stings your skin as they click shut around them. He guides you to a bench at the front of the building, wedged between two shrubs, and plops you down on it. 
“Stay here,” he gruffs out at you and once more speaks into his walkie. 
“What is happening?” You shout. “That fucker attacked me!” He dismisses you with a wave of his hand as the door to the club opens again. A group of three men walk out and stare daggers at you, one of them holding a wad of red soaked paper towels against his face, 
“Crazy bitch,” one of his buddies grumbles in your direction. You attempt to stand up to defend yourself but the security officer places his hand on your shoulder and shoves you back down. The men walk into the parking lot and around the corner, just as two sheriff’s deputies walk up. One breaks off to speak with them while the other approaches you. The security officer meets him halfway and a hushed conversation ensues. They look over at you a few times and the security officer gestures with his hands as he speaks. 
The two men shake hands and the security guard returns to his post inside the club. The deputy stands before you, looking down at you in a disappointed dad sort of way. “Care to explain what happened?” he asks. 
As you begin to tell him how that man, that pig , put his hands on you, he reaches for the keyring on his belt and unlocks the handcuffs. You rub your sore wrists and continue giving your statement. He scribbles in a notepad that he pulled from the front pocket of his shirt. He asks a few more questions and asks you to “hold tight” while he confers with his partner. He returns after a few moments and the man who attacked you walks to the parking lot with his friends. 
“Lucky for you he doesn’t want to press charges,” he says in a tone that makes you believe that was a strong suggestion from himself. You open your mouth to protest but he holds his hand up. “I know,” he says dejectedly. “But witnesses only saw you assault him . Unfortunately, this is going to boil down to a he-said-she-said scenario.” 
You can help the burning tears that spill down your cheeks. You know he’s right. All they have is your tequila fueled account. That coupled with your short skirt, the best you could hope for is a “she was asking for it.” 
“You’re free to go but you need to find someone to come pick you up. You are in no condition to drive.” You point to where your broken phone lays on the sidewalk and the officer picks it up and hands it to you. Your voice is still caught in your throat where it chokes back your sobs. You shake your head and stare at your knees. “If you can’t find someone to take you home, I'll have to toss you in the drunk tank.” 
“Martinez!” his partner calls to him and he retreats to speak with him once more. When he returns he tells you that they have found you a safe ride home. The alcohol and adrenaline have clouded your head so you aren't even really listening anymore. You sigh and lean back against the bench and let your head fall back. The sky is clear tonight and even with all of the light pollution the stars are shining bright. 
You aren’t sure how long you sit like that, breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth, but it can’t have been more than ten minutes. You hear the click of boots on the concrete and then the all too familiar smell of cigarettes and Wild Country cologne waft on the hot air. You’d know that smell anywhere. You can just see the brown glass bottle, shaped like a cowboy boot that sat on the dresser of your shared room for years. He’s here.
“Staying out of trouble, I see,” you jolt upright at the soft sound of his deep voice. 
“What are you doing here?”
“I went to high school with Diaz,” Javi says, nodding his head toward the uniformed officers behind him. “You met him at my cousin’s wedding.” 
“Why did he call you?” Given the time of night you know he was sleeping, or getting ready for bed when he got the call. He shoved his feet hastily into his boots as his jeans rumpled around the tops. His white, short-sleeve pearl snap is wrinkled and he missed a spot when he tucked it in. His hair was obviously raked through with his fingers on his way out the door. After everything that happened, he still showed up for you. He probably didn’t even hesitate. 
Javi sits on the bench and wraps his arm around your shoulder. You lean into him instinctively and all the tension and adrenaline from the night flees your body. He holds you steady, just as he always has, while you let all of the emotion from the night out onto his shoulder, soaking his shirt with your tears. He holds you closely, gently whispering words of comfort into your hair, until your steady sobs slow to stuttered whimpers. He places a soft kiss to the crown of your head and rubs his hands up and down your arms. 
He helps you stand and places his hand on the small of your back and it feels like it always had, like it had never left. “C’mon. Let’s get you home.” He walks you to his truck, waving goodnight to the police officers. He opens the door and helps you up into the cab of his new pickup. The cool leather sticks to your thighs and the familiar smell of stale Marlboro reds wraps around you like a warm hug. 
Javi pulls onto the main road but instead of turning left, towards your house, he takes a right. “I thought you were taking me home?”
“I am, but not before I get some food in you.” His eyes flick towards you and his mouth turns up a little at one corner. “I think we both know you’ll be a monster in the morning without it.” 
“Yeah, well good thing that isn’t your problem anymore, right?” Javi snorts and shakes his head but he keeps quiet and his eyes remain on the road. George Strait promising to cross his heart and give all he’s got to give fills the silence in the cab. It doesn’t take long to reach the Waffle House the two of you always seemed to end up at after a night out. Javi scoffs and rolls his eyes when you yank the door open and hop out. You’ve offended his gentlemanly sensibilities by not allowing him to open the door for you, to offer his hand to help you out while he runs the other hand up your torso or down to cup your ass like he used to. Well, he’s the one who gave up that right when he broke up with you. 
Javi orders, pecan waffle with hashbrowns and bacon for you, black coffee for himself. The waitress puts in your order and brings over the coffee pot. A crumpled pack of Marlboros and a tarnished Zippo lighter sit on the table between you. Waffle House is pretty much the only restaurant that still allows smoking indoors in Texas, which is the main reason you always ended up here. You make small talk while you eat and he smokes. You ask about his dad and he asks about your job. Safe topics, ones that won’t bring up the barely scabbed over wounds of your breakup. 
You reach for your bag when the check comes but Javi waves you off. “Thanks for breakfast.”
“No problem.” 
You don’t argue when he walks you to your side of the truck. Not your side, you remind yourself. You don’t protest when he opens the door or offers you his arm to steady yourself with. He slams it shut and walks over to his side. Once again, when he pulls out of the parking lot, he drives in the opposite direction of your apartment. “Where are you taking me now, Javier?” you ask with a heavy sigh.
“Just one more stop, bab-” he cuts the pet name off before he can get it all the way out. He covers, poorly, by clearing his throat. You wonder what he’s up to but don’t ask again. You’re tired and irritated and the waffles in your stomach have you itching for the comfort and safety of your bed. You want to crawl in and stay for a few days, forget any of this ever happened 
The roads are empty at this time of night so it doesn’t take long for him to pull up to the curb in a residential neighborhood. He cuts the headlights but not the engine and opens his door. “Stay here,” he orders before he gets out and slams the door. He walks up the driveway and when he gets to the door, he pounds on it with a balled up hand so loudly that you can hear it from inside the cab. The porch light flicks on and a man opens the door. He’s shirtless and was obviously sleeping but there is no mistaking who the two black eyes and bruised nose belong to. 
Javi steps back and the man steps out onto the porch, puffing out his chest. That’s not gonna work out well for him, you think. Javier is not one to be intimidated. Not after the shit he’s seen. The shit he’s done. You can’t hear what they are saying but you can tell that their voices are raised. Javi points at the truck and the man’s gaze follows. You shrink down in your seat before you realize that he probably can’t see you. The man pushes his pointed finger into Javi’s chest and you flinch because you know what’s coming next. This is exactly what Javi was waiting for. 
You open the door just as Javi’s fist connects with the man’s jaw. “Javi!” you shout, but he doesn’t appear to hear you. He brings his fist back and you call out his name once more. “Javier!” Javi’s eyes snap towards you and there’s a darkness there that he doesn’t let out very often. You might not be his anymore, but he’ll always be yours. He’ll always be there to protect you. He’ll always save you. That’s why your first instinct was to call him when that asshole put his hands on you. 
“Get back in the truck!” he shouts. The man recovers quickly for someone with a broken nose and attempts a swing but Javi catches his fist and throws another right hook. The man falls to the floor for the second time in one night but that doesn’t stop Javi. He sits on the man’s abdomen, pinning his arms to his sides. He lands blow after blow against the man’s mangled face.
“Keep. Your. Hands. To. Your. Fucking. Self!” Each word is punctuated with a wet, crunching smack. Finally, your brain catches up and you are pulling Javi off. He relents and allows you to help him to his feet. His hair has fallen into his face and he pushes it back with his fingers. 
“Let’s go. Javi, please. Take me home.” Something about the pleading in your voice seems to make reason come back to him. He straightens up and adjusts his jeans. He looks down at the pitiful sight of your attacker curled in on himself on his own front porch. 
“You ever touch her again, I’ll fuckin’ kill you.” He spits on the man and wraps his arm around your shoulder. He walks you back to the truck and even with his split, bloody knuckles still doesn’t allow you to open your own door. You rifle through the glovebox and find a few fast food napkins, as you expected. This might be a new truck, but he’s still the same man. You turn on the dome light in the cab and begin dabbing at his hands. 
“I’m fine, bab-” he cuts himself off again. He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, leaning back in his seat.
“You’re not fine, Javier. You’re probably going to jail. You can’t just kick the shit out of people, ya know?” 
“Who do you think gave me his name and address?” 
“You are a menace to society.” 
“ Ya sabes, mamita,” you’ve missed that playful look in his eyes these past six months. You’ve missed the way he looks at you like you hung the moon. He runs his knuckle across your cheek and you lean into his hand. You share a moment like the ones in the romcoms right before the couple reconciles and gets their happily ever after. Javi leans in slightly but you pull back, not much, but enough that he notices. The hurt that flashes in his eyes breaks your heart all over again. 
Fuck it. You lean over the center console and curl your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. You pull his head closer and crash your lips into his. His lips slot between yours perfectly. Like they belong there. You know they do. You both know it. He grips your arm and pulls you over the console and settles you into his lap. His hands find familiar purchase in the meat of your hips and his denim covered bulge presses into the apex of your thighs. He pulls you close, holds you tightly as if he’s trying to press your body into his so he never has to be without you again. 
You grind down on him, lips never leaving his. His tongue dances across yours and his hands fist the fabric of your raised skirt. Neither of you care or even notice that the dome light of the cab is still on. Let them see. Let him see. When his hands snake around the front of your thighs and his thumbs settle into the creases there you moan into his mouth. It's been a long time since you’ve been touched this way. Six months to be exact. He swallows your sounds, drinks them down like a man who’s been wandering the desert. His hips buck up into yours and can feel his strained zipper rub against your covered pussy and you know that in this moment you will give him anything he wants.
His fingers wiggle their way under your panties, shoving them to the side and holding them there with his palm. He dips the tip of his middle finger inside your warm center and swirls it around. He slips it back out and up to your clit. Once his finger connects with the eight thousand nerve endings there you are already cresting the edge of a long awaited orgasm. 
He replaces his fingers with his thumb and slides his middle and ring fingers inside of you. Your walls hug his thick fingers, molding to them. You are fluttering around him already and cock twitches against your thigh. “C’mon, baby. Give it to me, mamita . I know you want to,” he whispers into your neck. Your body shudders and your cunt convulses around him. You collapse against his chest with a stuttering breath and your chest heaves against his. He slips his fingers from you and wipes them on his jeans. He cups your face with both hands and presses a kiss to your forehead. 
“Let’s get you home.” You try to reach for his zipper but he grabs your wrist and shakes his head. “Later, baby,” he’s stopped trying to correct himself. You crawl back over the console and into your seat. You use the fast food napkins still in your hand to clean the wetness from between your thighs and when you pull the napkin away, it's smeared bright red with blood. Panic floods through your body for the third time this evening until you realize that it didn’t come from you, it’s from the split skin of Javi’s knuckles. 
“Javi, your hand!” you reach for it but he just turns off the dome light and hits the button for the headlights. He shifts the truck into gear and pulls away from the curb. “I think you might need stitches.” 
“Don’t need stitches. I’ve had worse than this, mamita. ” You know there’s no point in arguing with him so you sit back in your seat and try to relax. An almost impossible task because your body is abuzz from all of the night’s happenings. The excitement and greasy diner meal have stolen your tequila buzz from hours earlier, so you now have to deal with all the evening’s events regrettably sober. 
Javi turns into your apartment complex and stops at the curb outside of your building. He rests his foot on the break and doesn’t even put the truck in park. “You’re not coming up?” you ask him with a slight tilt of your head.
“Said I was getting you home, not taking you home.” He keeps his gaze straight ahead, like if he looks at you he won’t be able to turn you down. You unbuckle your seatbelt and throw it from your chest. The clip hits the window and the noise makes Javi finally turn his attention to you. “Hey! This truck is new, ya know!” 
“Yeah, I know,” you grumble. “Thanks for getting me home.” You slam the door shut behind you and walk to your door without looking back. You dig in your bag for your keys and his truck roars away. You are trying as hard as you can to hold the tears back until you can get inside and get in the shower. All you want to do is wash the night off of you. You can still feel Javi’s fingers in your cunt, but you can also still feel those hands on your body. The ones that didn’t belong there. 
Once you’ve closed the apartment door behind you, you lean your back up against it. You close your eyes and let out a deep sigh  and sink to the floor as tears stream down your cheeks. You work your shoes off and toss them, one at a time, across the room. You don’t see where they land but they clatter loudly against the tile. The sound echoes off the bare walls of your nearly empty apartment. You’ve lived here for months but haven’t bothered to unpack anything more than the essentials. 
Three sharp raps on the door startle you, the vibrations rattle through your head. You scrub your face with the palms of your hands and stand, taking a deep breath before you open the door. “What, Javier?” 
He doesn’t say anything, just steps through the door and closes it behind him. “Wha-” he grabs you by your shoulders and backs you up against the door. His body crowds yours and his hands move your face. He cups both of your cheeks and looks into your eyes. He looks like he’s waiting for you to tell him to stop or push him away. One beat. Two. Three. That’s all he waits before he angles his face and brings his mouth to yours. 
His tongue tangles with your own, stroking it hungrily. His hands roam your body greedily and yours are already at the collar of his shirt. You grab and pull, snapping the buttons open and shoving the cotton down his bare, broad shoulders. Before you know it, the backs of your thighs hit the arm of your couch. Your clothes and his snake a trail across the floor. You sit on the arm of the couch and detach your mouth from Javi’s to catch your breath. 
You drink in the sight of his naked form, your eyes having been starved of the vision for far too long. His chest is wide and heaving with each breath he takes. It tapers down to a trim waist. He’s gone a little softer around the middle since his retirement. There’s a trail of hair that starts above his navel and leads down to a darker patch of thick curls. His cock, the tip already glistening, bobs heavily. 
“I can’t wait anymore,” Javi pants. He pulls you up by your arms and spins you around and you brace yourself, palms down, on the arm of the couch. “I need to be inside you now .” he uses his thumbs to spread your asscheeks apart and a warm glob of split lands directly on your asshole. He uses his thumb to spread it around, briefly pressing against the tight muscles there. He slaps the length of his cock against your pussy and then nudges the tip inside of you. 
You arch your back with a moan and inch your hips back, desperate to take more of him but Javi grabs your hips and holds you, as always, steady. “Patience, mamita ,” he rasps. You know then, that just like you, he hasn’t been with anyone else either. He takes a moment to slow his breath and then, without warning, buries himself completely within your walls. You cry out with the stretch, no matter how many times he fucked you there was always a stretch, and Javi leans down, chest against your back. “You can take it, baby,” he murmurs in your ear. “I know you can.” 
He presses soft kisses to the space between your shoulder blades while he pulls back, almost all the way out of you, and shoves himself back in. The breath is punched out of your lunch when he reaches the very end of you. “Javi, please, ” your plea echoes around the room, and Javi traces his fingers up your spine. He wraps his hand around the base of your neck and shoves your head forward. Your hands slip from the arm of the couch to the cushion. 
His fucks into you with vigor, giving you everything he has, pouring himself into you. His fingers dig into your neck as your hands scrabble for purchase on the cool leather. The new angle lights your nerves on fire. Nobody has ever been able to touch you in the places he can. Not even you. You’ve spent the last six months searching for that spot that his cock is knocking against, to no avail. 
The tension in your body builds and your belly burns. Javis hips snap against your ass, each thrust punctuated by a low grunt. You reach your hand between your thighs, down past the damp patch of hair and rest the heel of your palm against your clit. Your fingers trail lower and wrap gently around Javi’s balls. “ Fuck!” he shouts, pace faltering just for a moment, before he pounds into your cunt with abandon. 
Your walls clamp down around him, sucking him in even further and holding him there while you shatter into a thousand little pieces.Your arm is pinned between your body when Javi presses you further into the couch, until your cheek touches the leather and with one, two, three sharp thrusts he spills inside of you. He holds you both steady until his cock has stopped twitching and your orgasm has abated and then he collapses against your back. His breath is hot and heavy against your neck and his chest, slick with sweat, sticks to your back. 
Your fingers begin to tingle, numb from being wedged beneath both of your bodies and you push back against him. “Javi, my hand,” you groan. He huffs out a laugh and kisses you once more before standing and bringing you with him. You turn in his arms and rest your head against his chest. His pounding heart thumps in your ear and you close your eyes, reveling in the warmth of his body, his touch, his smell. Every sensation you’ve been deprived of for months. 
“Take me to bed,” you tell him quietly and he leads you down the hall to your bedroom. He pulls back the sheet and gestures for you to get in. He settles in behind you, his cock soft and still sticky when it settles against your ass. His arm curls around you and pulls you back to his chest. He rests his head on the top of your head and you hear him take in a deep breath. “Goodnight, Jav.”
“Goodnight, mamita. ” 
Your head is pounding and your body aches when your eyes flutter open. The alarm clock on your nightstand lets you know that you’ve slept well into the afternoon. You can already tell before you roll over that the other side of the bed is empty. The cold sheets let you know it’s been that way for hours. There’s still a slight indentation on the pillow where his head was resting. You hug it to your chest and breathe in the scent of him. Your relationship might be over, but each of you still belongs to the other. 
taglist: @planet-marz1 @rhoorl @nerdieforpedro @hyzer34 @littlegrungegirlaf @joeldjarinff @harriedandharassed @casa-boiardi @disassociation-daydreams @inept-the-magnificent @elegantduckturtle @magpiepills @cherubispunk @milly-louise @party-hearses @megamindsecretlair @survivingandenduring @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @callmecath1 @pedge-page @justagalwhowrites @morallyinept @heareball @yorksgirl @clawdee @fluffygoffpanda @poodlebae @readingiskeepingmegoing @amanitacowboy @casuallyfancydonut @for-a-longlongtime @hiddenbabynyc @missladym1981 @noxturnalpascal @joelsflannel @rosi3ba3z @professionalpromqueen @anoverwhelmingdin @heavennumber2 @pascalpvnk @joels-shitty-puns @weho2kcmo @uncassettodiricordi @noisynightmarepoetry @spookyxsam @apesarecuul @maried01 @tammythr @violinchick @thepetitemandalorian
408 notes · View notes
reticent-writer · 4 months
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Hiii, can you please write another fic about a teenage reader (16-18) and anybody from hazbin hotel. It can be about anything
HEloooo
Alastor x teen reader platonic
Headcannon by @ghostly-one: "During Alastor's absence, Reader went to the overlord meetings in his place"
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✿✼:*゚:.。..。.:*・゚゚・**・゚゚・*:.。..。.:*゚:*:✼✿ 
*knock knock knock*
You heard as you groaned and pushed your head up from your pillow.
"It's me, Y/n." You could hear the radio static through your door, "I have an errand to run and would like for you to join me."
"I'll be down in a minute." You replied as you started to get up.
------
"Oh, boy whats the plan, boss?"
"I like your suits."
"What are the antlers for?"
"Can I touch your ~staff thing~?"
"Are those your ears? or is it your hair? I can't tell."
The egg boiz were annoying the fuck outta you and Alastor. If you knew they would've tagged along, you wouldn't have come even if you were going to an overlord meeting.
"Hark Alastor, Y/n. How fare thee this day." Zestial appeared from nowhere in front of the both of you.
"Good evening Zestial, It's nice to see you again." You greeted with a smile as Alastor quickly threatened the eggs.
"Greetings Zestial." Alastor said as the sinners around you three started to take notice and run.
"Ah, the weather doth become this fine day."
"Indeed. Looks like we might have some acid rain this afternoon."
"If our luck doth hold! I do revel in the screams. How art thou? It has been an age since thou hath graced us with thy presence. Y/n hast been in thy lodging since thee've been gone." Zestial looked to you with a pleased expression as he patted your shoulder before continuing his conversation with Alastor.
"Some hath spun wild tales of you falling into... Holy arms."
"Hahaha Oh, I just took a well-earned sabbatical. Nothing serious. Though it's fun to keep everyone of their toes."
"There too hath been rumour of thy involvement with the princess and her recent flight of fancy. TELL ME, how does thou fall in such folly." Zestial would've creeped you out if you weren't used to his (and Alastor's) over-the-top and old-timey ways.
"That is more me to know. But please do guess. I'd love to know the theories."
"T'would be grander folly by far to assume the workings of your mind, Alastor. Thou hath been naught but an enigma since thy manifested in this realm."
"Coming from someone as ancient as you, I take that as quite the compliment."
The three of you made it the the building where the meeting would be taking place as you and Zestial stepped into the elevator you waiting for Alastor to tell the eggs to wait for him before pressing the button.
-------
You sat in between Alastor and one of Carmilla's daughters.
"Welcome, Hell sovereign overlords. I've invited you all here because you represent the controlling powers of out city. Together you own millions of souls. Souls at risk with the new extermination schedule. We need to discuss what can be done to minimize the impact to our interest." Carmilla said matter-of-factly. "Zestial, so good to see you, my friend."
"Enchanted as always Carmilla." He said as he sipped his tea.
Carmilla was about to look around the room when she spotted Alastor. The face that she made nearly made you laugh.
"Alastor?"
"Yes, I know I've been absent some time. I'm sure you've all been wondering." Alastor spoke like he'd been waiting 7 years just to say that.
"Not really. But welcome back in any case." She dismissed him. You could hear the static abruptly stop and had to bite your lip so you wouldn't laugh.
Once the meeting started you zoned out staring at the wall. To be honest you didn't really care about the meetings you were only there to show your face and now that Alastor is back it gave you less of a reason to care, but interesting things did happen quite often.
Like Velvette wanting a war with the exterminators.
✿✼:*゚:.。..。.:*・゚゚・**・゚゚・*:.。..。.:*゚:*:✼✿ 
Zestial translation: It would be much more foolish to think that I understand how your mind works, Alastor. You have always been a mystery to me ever since you came into this world. (just thought it would be nice to add this.)
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@ghostly-one
This is choppy and rushed but parade season is starting soon and I have a lot of performances before then too.
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bigification · 3 months
Text
Spiked
Friday,
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I feel strong, but these protein shakes haven't been helping my bulk as much as I want. I'm still too skinny. Maybe I should give them more time though, I've only been taking them for a couple weeks after all. I'll try bumping it up to two a day, and I'll eat more, that should help.
I pick up my phone as I leave the gym and stare at the Grindr app. Should I? Is it fair to Dean that I keep bringing back guys to our place. This would be the fourth time this week, I think I can hold off for his sake. Anyway, I put away my phone and head back to my apartment.
"How was the workout?" Dean asked when I got home. I'm shocked, he's never really been interested in my workouts before. We used to go together before we were roommates but now that we live together, the gym is a rare activity we do apart. Besides, he hasn't really been going that much recently.
"Oh, it was good... I'm just not bulking as much as I want to." I reply.
"That must be why you got those protein shakes, huh?"
Why is he taking so much notice of this stuff now? We can share the shakes if he really wants to, he might just be trying to motivate himself to get back in the gym. But he could just ask if that's what he wants. "Ya, I'm gonna try to drink more, maybe that'll help." I say as I go to the fridge and grab one.
"That's good." Dean says in a flat tone, he usually does this when he's lost interest in a conversation.
I get distracted from the conversation anyway as I drink the shake. Something seems different about it, it's got a bit of a bitter aftertaste now. I figure it's probably just me getting tired of the taste and shrug it off.
Saturday,
I wake up in a cold sweat. This was unusual given that I get up every day at this time to go to the gym. I look to the clock and it's... 10 o'clock. Holy shit, I slept in. I'm usually at the gym by 8. I calm down a bit when I remember it's Saturday, so I have nothing to do anyway.
I roll out of bed and hobble my way to the bathroom. My head is spinning and my stomach is growling, I felt hungover. I didn't drink last night did I? I don't really remember. However, all of that leaves my mind in an instant when I look in the mirror. I rub my eyes and look again. Where do I even begin. An itchy beard now covers my face, despite the fact that I shaved yesterday morning. My sweat glistened on my distended stomach, my six pack buried under a soft bloat. My pecs are swollen and slightly rounded.
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What the fuck. My mind is trying to process what's happening, but it can't. I turn to the side and see the subtle S shape in my stomach and my ass. Was it the shake? It couldn't have been, it hasn't done shit for me in weeks and now it does this! You know what, this is fine. I pinch my stomach. It's mostly bloated, just a small layer of fat, nothing I can't work off in a couple weeks. If anything this will give me a head start on my bulk.
I throw on some of my loose gym clothes that do a decent job at hiding my physique, but I still look different. I grab my gym back and try to sneak out, I don't want Dean seeing me like this. I quickly try to rush out the door, but I stop dead in my tracks when I hear Dean.
"I didn't know you were still home, you usually leave before I get up." He says nonchalantly.
"Oh ya... I just decided to sleep in today." I pull my bag to cover my stomach.
"Okay, have fun at the gym. Nice beard by the way, when did you decide to grow it out."
"I've just been a bit lazy with shaving it, that's all." I'm sweating buckets.
"Well it looks good, you should keep it." He smiles at me.
I can feel myself blush, so I smile and get out as quickly as possible. I chug a protein shake on the way to the gym, noting that bitter aftertaste again. It's probably nothing, I have bigger issues to deal with.
Once I start my workout, I feel pretty self conscious about my body. I know no one else could know that something is off, but I still feel off. But as the workout goes on, I start feeling more and more comfortable. I start hitting more reps than I ever have before, though cardio is a bit of a slog. It doesn't matter, I feel surprisingly great. I finish off the workout great, and flex in the mirror for a bit of a confidence boost.
I drink another shake on the way home. As I get home, Dean seems to be waiting for me. He asks how my workout was again. He's acting so weird again. I decide to spend the rest of the day out, drinking the night away. I am bulking after all.
Sunday,
I wake up feeling like I got hit by a truck, with no memory of how much I drank last night. I've never felt like this after a night out though. The more I think about it, the more my mind points me to the shakes. They have to have something to do with this. I don't have time for this right now though, I have to get to the gym.
I brush my teeth and shave, I'm shocked at the beard I grew in just two days. I try throwing on some clothes, but I feel some resistance. My largest gym shirt no longer fits, there's always a sliver of skin showing and it goes past my belly button when I reach up. My shorts fit a bit better, but they hug my ass very tight. I think I'll have to buy some new clothes on the way home.
The workout goes similarly to yesterday. I start self conscious of the fact that my belly is showing and my shorts look like they're about to rip. But the worry escapes my mind when I destroy my routine. I feel so strong.
I feel great by the time my workout ends. I head to the locker room and take off my shirt. Yeesh, I have a full on beer belly now. This is no longer just a bloat, my stomach is covered in a thick layer of fat. I didn't even know you could gain this much fat in only a couple of days, and I'm not even eating that much. And what's with the beard, I shaved this morning and it's already coming back in. Although my arms are looking massive, I could even feel my sleeves stretch from my biceps when I was working out. I stare at my belly a bit as I think about what to do.
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I throw on my shirt again and head out. I pull up to a clothing store and pick out a few loose gym clothes that should fit me if I bulk even more.
"Hi, where are the change rooms." I ask an employee.
"Oh.." he pauses for a moment, looking at my belly. I notice that my shirt is riding up more than it was this morning. I instinctively cover my exposed belly with my arms and shrivel up in embarrassment.
"Just over there sir." He awkwardly points to the back of the store.
I grab a few larger clothes on the way out and leave the store as fast as humanly possible. I instinctively down another shake on the way home. Dean didn't say anything to me when I got home, but he glanced at me and then looked away. He is acting so strange.
I woke up in the middle of the night, there was a rattling coming from the kitchen. I walk out to investigate and see Dean doing something with the protein shakes. Is he secretly drinking them at night? He could just ask and I would give some to him. But I see him pour something into the shake and then close it back up again before putting them back in the fridge. What the hell? I try to think of what he could be doing. He stashes something away in the bottom of the cupboard and starts walking back to his bedroom. I quickly hide in my room until I hear his door close, and then I go back to the kitchen to investigate. I look at the protein shakes in the fridge and notice their seals have been broken, I can't believe I never noticed that. I move over to the cupboard and find a small bag with white powder in it. It looks like coke, but why the fuck would Dean put coke in my shakes. And besides, I don't think fat, muscle, and hair growth are symptoms of coke. Maybe I'll give him a taste of his own medicine. I go back to the fridge and pull out the jug of orange juice that Dean drinks every morning. I have no idea how much he put in my shakes, so I just pour a bunch in. I kind of feel like a secret agent, sneaking in a mysterious powder into his drink. I would feel worse, but he already did this to me so I'm fine ignoring my morals this time.
I head to bed, lying awake in my bed for a while. Thinking about what I just did, thinking about the results. It's making it hard to fall asleep, but I eventually do.
Monday,
I wake up feeling better than I had the past few days. I go through my normal routine, throw on my gym clothes, and grab a bite to eat. When I open the fridge, i see the orange juice and protein shakes and I'm reminded of my situation. Every morning I get a few moments of blissful ignorance before it's ripped away. I think for a bit, then grab a couple shakes and put in my bag. I'm kinda liking this new me, the strong me, and the belly is definitely growing on me. I catch my reflection in the mirror as I head out, I'm really committing to this aren't I? I ask myself as I look at the bushy beard that has engulfed my face and the belly and moobs that are unmistakable under my shirt. I smile and then head to the gym.
Every day that I spend at the gym, I get less self conscious. I almost forget about the fact that my hairy gut I exposed to the world whenever I reach up. I only care about the fact that I have been increasing the weight on my workouts every day and it feels amazing.
I take a shower and get dressed for work... Oh shit. I never bought work clothes that fit me, I'm reminded when I try in vain to button up my dress shirt. I stop by the store again and grab a couple shirts and pairs of pants. The thought of the protein shake in my car makes me think of the future, so I buy a few clothes in larger sizes too.
I barely make it to work on time. The day went by fast, but all I could remember were the stares and the comments from coworkers. "You forget to shave this morning Santa?" "Might want to lay off the doughnuts in the break room buddy." "We're concerned about your health." "Did you forget to stop bulking?" That was all I heard today. It was embarrassing at first, but it soon turned to encouraging. Each sly comment just makes me want to grow more. It honestly makes me realize how much I'm enjoying growing, and makes me even more excited to see what happens to Dean. It was hard to keep my dick in my pants today, I think the only reason no one noticed was because they were too busy staring at my gut.
I make it back home after work and dress down to my underwear first thing. Damn I am getting hairy, I run my hands through the forest of hair that has grown all over my body. As I'm doing so, an amazing idea runs through my mind. I'm gonna surprise Dean. There's no way I can hide the changes in my body regardless of how baggy my clothes are, so I'm just gonna show it off. I lay down on the couch by the front door, still only in my underwear, and I wait for him to show up.
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"I'm hom- Oh hey..." Dean stutters as he sees me.
"Hey bud, what's up." I say nonchalantly.
"Just tired from work, where are your clothes?"
"I had a crazy workout today, just figured I'd air out a bit. Ever since I started this bulk, things have really taken off for me at the gym." I say while I rub my gut. In trying my best to make him uncomfortable and it seems to be working.
"Okay, well if you need me I'll be in my room." He quickly scurries into his room.
I just chuckle to myself and continue rubbing my belly. I wonder if there's any leftovers in the fridge?
Tuesday,
Same old same old. Get out of bed, get dressed, shave, grab a shake and head to the gym.
I feel so imposing at the gym now. I think I've gotten taller, because I look down on almost every now. I have a beard and a deeper voice than I used to, and not to mention the big gut and strong biceps. I'm like the biggest guy here, and people treat me like it. Women and men stare, and people tend to let me use the machines I want. I also notice myself grunting when I work out, I wonder if the entire gym can hear it. Anyway, the point is I feel amazing. This is the first day I dropped cardio because who fucking needs it, I sure don't. Now I focus purely on mass gain. I'm tired of holding back and I don't care what other people think, I want more.
I arrived at work, rocking far more confidence than I did yesterday, and people noticed. I don't care if they stare or comment, and I don't care that my dress shirt is already too small for me. People even asked me how I gained as much muscle as it did that fast. I just tell them to eat a shit ton and drink protein shakes, but maybe once the jig is up with Dean I'll ask him how to get the powder. I certainly wouldn't mind seeing some of the men at work blow up like I did. This is not the time to think about it though, it's getting hard to hide my boner at work. The only thing hiding it when I sit down is my gut.
I get home and notice Dean is home too. He must have stayed home, I wonder if it's because of the powder. He won't seem to leave his room though, so I'll have to wait until tomorrow to see the results.
I just decide to change into some comfortable clothes and eat my heart out. Though I'm shocked at how small my once 'baggy' clothes are. They barely fit past my stomach, and they ride up past my belly button when I lift my arms.
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Fuck I'm getting fat. There is nothing hotter to me right now than the thought of my body growing. I make my way to the kitchen and grab a few more shakes and start chugging, feeling my dick harden with each gulp. I feel like a fucking pig, what has come over me. The shake is dribbling down my beard and onto my shirt, but I can't stop. Once I've had enough protein shakes for a lifetime, I stumble to my room and promptly fall asleep.
Wednesday,
I wake up in a pool of sweat, similar to a couple days ago. My mouth tastes awful and my body feels heavy. I question what happened last night as I roll myself out of bed. I drag myself to the bathroom and freeze in shock at my image in the mirror. Holy shit. I pull up my shirt to see a massive ball belly, covered in a thick layer of hair. I pull my shirt up further and see a pair of soft man tits that now lay on my gut. Every part of my body looks swollen, my arms, my hands, even my face looks puffy.
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I let out a loud burp that reeks of protein shake, and suddenly I remember last. I walk to the kitchen and see six empty protein shakes on the table. I chuckle in a surprisingly deep voice before opening the fridge and grabbing a shake. I down it before getting ready to head to the gym. I put on my largest gym shirt and it only reaches halfway around my gut, I try to put on my shorts but I can't get them to cover the top of my ass crack. That's alright, I don't particularly care if anyone sees, it's their fault for looking.
I spend the day at the gym enjoying all the attention from shocked gym goers. They watch in amazement or contempt as this fatass walks around like he owns the gym.
I go to work with a similar energy, though I do have a dress shirt that still barely fits me so at least I'm not half naked going to work. My clothes still leave little to my coworkers imaginations, as I confidently strut my fatass around the office.
I get home and stand in shock as I walk through the door. Is that Dean!? Across the living room stands a morbidly obese man wearing nothing but boots, a baseball cap, and a ripped towel around his waist.
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"You did this to me!" The man yells in a gruff southern accent.
"Dean, is that you?" I respond.
"Yea, you dumbass! You gave me some of that powder didn't ya." He turns to face me and reveals the damage the powder did to his body.
"Hey you did it to me first! I was only returning the favour."
"I only put I bit into your shakes, how much did'ya give me!? Look what it's done to me!" He grabs a handful of the fat on his belly, and it jiggles like jello.
"Well I didn't know how much to give you."
"And you're only s'posed to take it when you're workin out, otherwise it only grows fat and not muscle. Beside, why d'ya keep drinking it after you knew?" He asks
"Because I like me this way, it just felt good to get revenge. Why did you even do it in the first place?" I ask in return.
"Because I thought if you got fat you'd stop hooking up with so many guys, and you'd notice me. It was only s'posed to be a bit, but then you started drinkin the shakes like crazy and now look at ya." He responds in a genuine voice. I don't know what to say, so I stand silent. He grabs his phone and approaches me. "This is what I looked like 2 days ago!" He shows me a picture of himself. "I was so happy that I could finally grow a beard. Little did I know why."
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"This is what I looked like yesterday." He shows me another photo. "My hair was falling out and my hairline was receding. I woke up looking like I was pregnant, and my pants couldn't fit anymore."
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"I was so scared that I ate some of that powder, but I didn't know what to do, so I stayed in my room all day and drank nothing but orange juice. Then I woke up this morning as a bald 350 pound man. That's when I knew you put that powder in my orange juice." He seems frantic.
I didn't know what to do, so I grabbed him and kissed him. "I never realized how hot your accent is until now." I say as I pull away from the kiss, he smiles in return. In the moment, another terribly amazing idea comes to my head. I grab the bag of powder he had left on the table and pour some of the powder into his mouth before snorting some myself. He looks at me in shock for a moment before swallowing it. I smile before dragging his fatass to my tiny king sized bed.
Then next Monday,
I just hit 300 today. I still go to the gym everyday, so that keeps my gut from growing out of control. Though I have had some interesting conversations with my family since. But the shocked faces of my family when they see me and their concerned comments if my weight gain only fuels the fire. Though my dad seems to be the only one who says he likes the new me, says I look manlier. It's funny coming from the next fattest man in the family, only behind me of course.
The scale stopped working on Dean after last Thursday, but he has to be pushing 500. I really gave him an insane dose of that powder, and the more fat he got the less capable he was to workout and thus reduce the fat gained. He just sits around and pigs out all day now, and I wouldn't want him any other way. I usually bring home a few meals from a couple fast food restaurants for his first dinner, and when I feel up to it, I'll add a little bit of powder to his meal.
I'm also enjoying work far more. I told all the men at my work about the powder, and within a few days I was seeing results. Some became as fat as Dean by the end of the week, clearly they neglected the part where it said to workout while consuming the powder. Some look like me, with big arms and an even bigger belly. And some have just become muscle beasts, almost like they spent hours a day at the gym. I also feel more imposing at work, people respect me more, even if half of them are bigger than me now. It even helped me get a raise, which funds all of the fast food trips for Dean and I. One day I hope to be the big boss with a silver bushy beard and hulking gut that spills out of my suit.
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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 2 months
Note
Hi! Spencer Reid x reader where reader is kind of panicking because she’s worried Spencer will get tired of her and find someone that’s more like him personality wise? But then Spence reassures her that he loves her and only her? 🎀🚬🤍🤎
fem bimbo!plus size reader, wc: 589.
cw! angst :(
a/n: no i am not going to let bimbo reader sleep, but also i've been posting so much aaron recently, which is funny because i've been so obsessed with spencer recently. thank you for your request!
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“I guess opposites really do attract huh?”
It was just a joke. A harmless, well meaning joke that completely spun your world off of its axis.
You were aware of the differences between you and your boyfriend, but you never felt bad about it, nor did he ever make you think that you weren't good enough for him. You would have liked to think that your differences was what made Spencer fall in love with you; but now you’re not too sure.
Yeah, sure, you needed help with understanding certain things, and your processing was a bit slower than others, but that didn’t make you stupid or annoying… right? 
What if you talked too much? What about that time that you kept interrupting Spencer while he was reading? Did you irritate him? Did he think about breaking up with you? You’d never had thoughts like these before because you never had a reason to. You always felt secure in your relationship with Spencer, like you were his equal. 
Spencer wasn’t used to your silence, it was unusual and quite frankly it raised the red flags in his mind. He was so used to your rambling about anything and everything that the quietness of his apartment was making him itch. 
“Sweetheart?” He called out softly.
It was almost as if his words scared you, your body jumping at the sound of him breaking the serene atmosphere of his almost dark academia-esque apartment. 
“Yes?” Your voice was hushed and meek and Spencer absolutely hated it.
He set his book down on the side table where he uncurled his legs and patted the spot on the couch next to him. “C’mere.” You looked almost hesitant to move, but nonetheless you got up and sat down. 
He grabbed your hand and held it firmly, but you didn’t make any effort to hold it back. It made Spencer nervous; did he do something?
“Sweetheart,” He reiterated. “Is something wrong?”
“Am I too much?” Your panic was quick to build. “What do you mean?” Spencer’s brows were furrowed inquisitively. “Like - like do I talk a lot? Or - or are my clothes too colorful? Do I ask too many questions?” Your speech fired out rapidly, almost as if you didn’t say what you wanted to know you may never do.
“Hey, hey, hey… no, no, stop.” Spencer was quick to shush you, opting to hold your face instead of your hand. “Did someone tell you that?” You shook your head, “No, yes? I don’t know. It - it was just because of that stupid joke Morgan had made.”
Ah, he remembers now.
“The one about opposites attracting?” You nod feebly. “And it got me thinking… what if I’m - what if I’m not a good match for you? You might want someone that’s similar to you,  one that knows how to play chess and understands all those super cool facts you know.” 
“Honey,” Spencer interrupts with a light laugh. “No.”
He wasn’t laughing at you, he was laughing at the sheer fact that he couldn’t imagine ever wanting someone else.
“I want you. I’ve only ever wanted you. I - I do admit that we are different, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. I like that you aren’t like me. It’s comforting, and I just… I just love everything about you. I love you.”
“You promise?” You asked wetly with a pout. His lithe thumbs swipe at the tears trickling down your cheeks as he nodded, “Of course.”
“I love you too, Spencie.” 
There you were. His girl.
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ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus @khxna
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mooshywrites · 3 months
Note
Hello hello! May I request a Halsin one shot or companion headcannons of how they would react to you having the flu? I've caught the most recent bug going around and it has absolutely floored me 😞🤧 thank you x
How they take care of you when you’re sick
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A/N ~ I’ve been so under the weather lately as well so I love this sm ;~;
Masterlist
Art commissions
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
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Astarion ~
~ Astarion was a very begrudging nurse
~ He couldn’t deny the fact that being around a sick person disgusted him on some level, but he couldn’t see you suffering alone
~ It was almost comical to watch him, grimacing as he approached your sniffling bundle of sick
~ He was so brave however, even landing a small kiss on your forehead as he situated you to be more comfortable
~ As a compromise, he settled in across the room, reading to you throughout the day to keep you company
~ In your sleepy and delirious state, you would feel him replacing the wet rag on your head, softly chiding you for having such a strong fever
~ Despite his attitude, you knew he was worried about you, rarely leaving you alone for more than a few minutes at a time
~ “Please get better soon, darling. I’m simply not cut out for such affectionate work”
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Halsin ~
~ Halsin was a little lost when you came down with a cold that his healing magic didn’t fix
~ He had no basis of what to do when his magic failed, so it was interesting seeing him try to come up with ways to help
~ At first, all he could think to do was bundle you as tight as he could in a fluffy blanket, holding you close to keep away the chills
~ When that didn’t help your stuffy nose, instead of setting you down to try something else, he simply carried you around as he thought
~ You felt like an overgrown baby, bundled up and tucked tightly against the Druid’s chest
~ Finally, he decided the only remedy would be lots of affection and some very warm peppermint tea
~ He fed you the brew spoonful by spoonful, almost as if he didn’t trust you not to choke on it in your feverish state
~ “Sip slowly, my heart, can’t have you dying on me so suddenly”
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Gale ~
~ When you started complaining to Gale that you were coming down with a cold, you expected the wizard to be a doting and affectionate partner
~ You did NOT expect him to become some sort of depraved mad scientist
~ After corralling you to the bed and snuggling you up in a plethora of blankets and giving you a smooch on the top of your head, he beelined it to the kichen
~ Your fever had you flitting in and out of sleep, so you didn’t quite know how much time had passed before Gale had returned
~ It took you a minute to realize what he was carrying, your eyes widening at the ray of various soups he had concocted
~ The rest of the day was spent lazily, your wizard reading to you from your favorite books as he rotated the soups for you to try
~ To your delight, most of them were delicious, though some neared the edge of all things bitter and medicinal
~ Gale’s hand never left your own, squeezing appreciatively as you tried every bowl
~ “Don’t eat too much now, I’m not quite sure how those potions will mix with each other, love.”
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Wyll ~
~ Wyll was a nervous wreck when he realized you were sick
~ You had to spend most of the morning calming him down, convincing him not to wrap you up and race you to the nearest healer
~ You assured him it was a minor case of the sniffles, a minor fever that probably wouldn’t last the day
~ After he had finally relaxed, he insisted on waiting on you hand and foot
~ He was ever present, refilling your water and handkerchief before you could put it back on the table
~ The duke even poured a basin of warm water, keeping a hot towel over your feet constantly
~ It was nice being cared for so diligently, despite your hellishly progressing cold
~ When it reached evening and your cold hadn’t subsided, Wyll gently carried you to bed, tutting over you nervously
~ “Whether I have to kidnap you myself, you will be going to a healer tomorrow, my sweet.”
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
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sourcherryandsprinkles · 10 months
Note
part 2 to ethan x camgirl reader where he orders another one on one and then they decide to meet up 🙊
I've been hesitating whether or not to make a part 2 for 'pretty boy'...here it is!!
Warnings: smut, masturbating, dirty talk,
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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A few weeks later, after a difficult exam, Ethan decided to reward himself by buying another private session with his favorite camgirl. He had been forced to re-watching your regular videos lately, having missed most of your lives due to exams coming up. Now, his cock was half-hard, heavy and aching to be touched, and he could feel a slight twitch as he allowed his thoughts to wander to seeing you live — and having you all to himself — in less than ten minutes. 
The black screen turned on and Ethan jumped when you said his name.
‘’Hi! Ethan, right?’’ It was rare you remembered customers, but Ethan’s sweet face and doe eyes were etched in your memory. Along with the big cock he was hiding in his pants.
Ethan nodded, surprised you remembered him. ‘’Yes.’’ 
‘’Where have you been? I haven't seen your name pop up in my recent lives…’’ you asked with a slight pout.
‘’Yeah…sorry. I’ve been busy with school. College is though.’’ 
‘’Me too, honestly. Balancing weekly live sessions with college has been quite challenging,’’ you admitted, forgetting for a short moment that you were talking with a paying customer and not a friend. 
‘’Can’t you take a small break? School is important.’’ Ethan didn’t want to sound like a parent, he was just concerned about your well-being. It was sweet that he cared. 
You sighed. ‘’I wish. Unfortunately, I can't afford that luxury. Those lives are what pays my bills.’’ 
As the conversation continued, you reminded yourself to keep track of time. After Ethan, three more people purchased private sessions.
‘’Enough about me. What do you want tonight, Ethan?’’ You gave him a flirty smile, your chest bouncing as you readjust your bra to show off more cleavage. It was royal blue with cut-outs that showed a lot of skin under the breasts. All that was covered was a thin lace over the nipples and over the swell of the breasts. 
Ethan felt himself twitch at the sight, so fucking hard. He’d love you in sweats and a sports bra, but seeing you like this had him so hard he was convinced his pants were going to burst. He didn’t dare looking lower, embarrassed he’ll moan when he’ll see the matching panties. 
‘’Anything. I just…missed you. I’ve been jerking off to your old videos for weeks,’’ he admitted with a slight flush to his cheeks. He didn’t want to sound like he was one of those creepy guys who obsess over someone, he just really enjoyed watching you. 
You were flattered by his dedication and decided to reward him. ‘’What about I do something special for my special boy?’’ 
‘’S-special boy?’’
You hummed. 
In a way, he was your special boy. Among all of your past clients, you had come across some really hot customers, but no one ever stuck to your mind like Ethan had. He was sweet, handsome and didn’t reduce you to a material to jerk off to. He saw you as a person. 
Before him, no one had ever made you want to teleport through a screen. Most of the time, you were looking forward to the end of the private session. 
Ethan watched as you reached behind you, grabbing something. ‘’Do you like this one?’’ you asked, holding your newest dildo. ‘’I haven’t used it in a video yet, so this is an exclusive premiere.’’ 
He eyed the phallic object. It was one of those you can stick to a surface and fuck yourself on it. 
Ethan ran a hand through his hair and reached down to palm himself through his jeans to relieve the pain he began to feel with his other. He was excited to see it all inside of you, to see you fuck yourself on it and cum all over it. A rush of warmth went through his body and he held back a moan at the thought.  You had such a huge effect on him.
You set the dildo on the side. ‘’But first, let’s get you going.’’ You refolded your legs in a way that gave Ethan the perfect view of your panty-covered slit, eliciting an immediate whimper. The sheer fabric didn’t leave anything to the imagination. ‘’Are you going to let me see you? From what I remember, you’ve got a nice big cock, don’t you baby?’’ 
Clumsily, Ethan removed his polo shirt, showing off his toned biceps and chest, then he unbuttoned his jeans, shoved them to his knees, and shifted his boxers just enough to free his leaking cock as he watched you shift on your bed. You were so impatient to see it again, to watch him cum again.
‘’Mmh, so big and pretty,’’ you complimented, wishing you could wrap your fingers around it and stroke him — kiss it. 
Shaking off those thoughts, you trailed your hand down your body, and shyly, you slid your hand over your mound through the panties, teasing yourself as you held eye-contact with the camera. Ethan couldn’t hold in the groan he let out at the sight of the sheer blue fabric clinging to your lips. You were  already pretty wet, which is kind of weird since, most of the time, shows like these felt more like a chore than getting off. 
On the screen before you, Ethan’s hand was lazily gripping the base of his cock as he watched you tease yourself. He should feel shy since he was the only one fully naked, but you looked so hot in that royal blue set that he almost didn’t want you to take it off. You let out a soft moan and pressed harder into your fingers for more pressure.
You pushed your panties to the side and brought your hand to your soaking folds, coating your fingers in your own arousal. ‘’I wish it was your hand touching me,’’ you slipped, closing your eyes and imagining Ethan’s fingers on you.
His breath caught in his throat and his hand gripped his shaft just a little tighter. ‘’Me too.’’
You continued without realizing, lost in your own bubble of pleasure. ‘’I want to take your big cock all in my mouth and choke on it until you cum down my throat.’’ 
Your words had Ethan moaning, creating images in his head. He ached to tangle his fingers in your hair and drag his cock over that pretty pout of yours, smear pre-cum onto your lips before  showing his cock down your throat. You would look so pretty like that.
‘’I wan— I want you to split me open and fuck me so hard I can't remember my own name.’’
Ethan moaned again, so turned on he could cry. ‘’Yes, please.’’
The idea of him filling your pretty pussy, looking utterly fucked with those pouty lips and pretty eyes had Ethan palming his cock just a little rougher. God, he wanted nothing more than to have you — for real.
You shouldn’t be making exceptions and prolonging your private sessions, but you didn’t want to stop talking with Ethan. You wanted to keep talking to him for hours and hours. 
He sat there, in his desk chair, chest sweaty and breathing heavily as he recovered from his orgasm, thick ropes of cum still all over his chest. He should wipe himself before it dried, but his gaze was locked with yours, a soft, dazed smile on both your lips. 
You didn't look any better, sitting in your soaked sheets with your slick-covered dildo abandoned on the bed. 
After a moment of staring at each other, something you never expected to happen happened: you asked for Ethan’s number. It was a line you had promised yourself to never cross when making this account, but you didn’t want to risk not seeing him again.
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