#my god i think i am in love with this man for real

[pleasurebuttonwrites]

Getting to Know Jake Lockley's Massive Cock

Jake Lockley x f!Reader | Explicit 18+ | 5.5K

Summary: You are a fic writer in the marvel universe living in New York where Moon Knight, and of course, Jake Lockley are real. His identity, as well as Marc's and Steven's are public. You write for the fandom, primarily for Jake. He joins tumblr...and reads your fics.

Warnings: smut, oral, p in v, unprotected, cream pie, breeding

A/N: I had so much fun writing this one. If I had more time I would have created fun edits for the parts where there are tumblr posts and messages and such, but I really wanted to post this already. Also, sorry about the Spanish, I don't speak it. If it bothers you too much, give me a shout, and let me know what I should change it to and I'll fix it!

~~~

It was always the same. When you finish a story and are about to post it the nerves kick in and you hesitate to hit the button. You shake yourself, literally, and post it before you could talk yourself out of it.

You refresh the page and there it is, first post on your dash under your url: jake-lockley-is-my-husband. You know if you don’t distract yourself, you’ll obsessively check for any interactions with it. So you close out and find something else to do.

You manage to occupy yourself until it’s time for bed, and you just can’t resist checking. You have dozens of likes, a few reblogs, and two lovely comments that you reply to before going to bed. All-in-all not too bad.

When you wake up the next morning you can’t wait to check again and when you open tumblr your first thought is that there must be a glitch. You have thousands of notifications. You try to sort through your activity but it’s a complete mess. Fics you posted months ago are suddenly getting interacted with, and random other posts too. But your top post is the fic you posted yesterday. You scroll through the comments:

No way it’s really him.

New celebrity tumblr just dropped.

Man of the people!

You go to the reblogs to figure out just what the fuck these people are talking about and click view post on the most recent. You scroll through a chain of reblogs until you get to the first one.

It’s from a blog called jake-lockleys-massive-cock. It says:

dios mio that was hot! i love the way you write me. it’s kinda eerie how spot on you are. #my wife knows me so well #fic rec

Your brain practically malfunctions. Was-was-was that, was that, was that…?????

You go to his bio. His pfp is a picture of Jake Lockley and he’s written:

hola, me llamo jake lockley the handsome third of the superhero known as moon knight. he/him. some say man of the people. according to fics written about me: lover extraordinaire. here to read said fics. if you write for me, tag me 😉

It was some kind of joke, right? It had to be. You scroll through his blog. He’d been busy in the last five hours, replying to asks about his identity to which he provided pictures of himself. Pictures that people were quick to point out weren’t anywhere else on the internet. Others of course still doubted it, but you were starting to be convinced. Or maybe you just wanted to be convinced. But that would mean that Jake Lockley had read your smut about himself.

You don’t know how to respond directly to him so instead you make a new post:

Oh my god you can’t do this to me when I’m asleep. Did jake lockley just comment on my fic? No right? Am I still dreaming? #freaking the fuck out

You step away because it’s just too much. Notifications are still coming in and you don’t know how to reply to any of them. Later, at work, at random moments you’ll think about it and it’ll shock you all over again. This potent mix of excitement and fear courses through you. Fear because all of the attention is damn scary. You scroll through your asks on your break and there is some hate in there. Some of it just random hate that seems to come with getting attention. But some of it clearly borne of jealousy that Jake had singled out your fic.

You consider turning off anon, but some of your best requests had come from people on anon. And you don’t want to end that. You think about replying to the hate but you barely have time to reply to all the nice comments. Instead you block the bad and focus on the good. You can’t get to it all, but you’ll try.

You still can’t work up the nerve to reply to him directly - if it really is him anyway.

-

You’re still trying to manage your inbox days later when you see a request come through. You were planning on closing them since you’d gotten so many new ones and needed time to get to them all. This new request is from jake-lockleys-massive-cock. Your heart is practically beating in your throat as you read it.

are you avoiding me? seems like you answer all your requests so here’s one: jake (that’s me) gives you a cream pie and fingers it back into you with my gloves on.

You realize just how much you believe it’s the real him by how wet you get from this request. You try and try and try to temper yourself, but your imagination gets the best of you and for a few hours as you fulfill this ask you live in a world where not only is Jake Lockley requesting smut about himself from you, but he’s actually giving you a cream pie and fingering it back into you with his gloves on.

-

I would never avoid my husband. That’s preposterous. Go Time Summary: Trying for a baby, your ovulation window comes up and Jake’s busy driving around. You go meet him and fuck right there in his cab. A/N: not the way ovulation tests work but idc You’d gotten the smiley face. It was on a stick you’d just dipped into your pee, but still it made you incredibly fucking happy. You immediately reached for your phone and called up your husband. It went straight to voicemail, but that was common when he was working. You left him a brief message: “It’s go time.” You don’t have to wait long for a response. He’s good about checking his messages in between fares. You pick up. “Jake Lockley, are you ready to put a baby in me?” “Mi vida, no puedo esperar a esta noche.” [Can't wait for tonight] “No, not tonight. Now. We’ve missed the window the past three months because something always comes up. I want to do this now.” “It would take me hours to get home with the way traffic is right now.” “So…let me come to you.” You take the subway and meet him in one of the sub-levels of a parking garage. It’s full but he doesn’t need a space and everyone is already in their offices so no one is around. Jake’s double parked in one of the darker corners, leaning against his yellow cab. You thread your arms around him in a hug and he pulls you closer burying his face in your neck. Being close to your husband like this still never fails to turn you on. And knowing that you’re about to try for a baby with him just takes it through the roof. He slides his hands into the back pocket of your jeans, giving your ass a little squeeze. Your lips meet his and it’s all a rush from there. He opens the door to the backseat, ushering you in, trying not to break the kiss. On your back he pulls off your jeans, muttering, “...should’ve worn a fucking skirt.” He gets in and pulls his pants down his thighs freeing his cock, already leaking precum. You can’t help but lick it off. “No, no, baby. This load’s going between your legs.” He pulls you into a straddle on his lap and drags the head of his cock through your folds. “Already so wet for me.” You’d taken him so many times before but it still took you a minute to get used to his size. You sank slowly down over him letting the thickness of his cock give you that delicious stretch. Soon though you’re bouncing on him like a pro and he’s pulling your shirt down to free your tits and mouthing at them while your cunt soaks his lap. He knows you. Knows you better than you know yourself. No matter how much you rock and shimmy your hips, somehow you just can’t hit that spot like he can. He knows this, of course, so he takes your hips and angles you and pulls you down onto him. It doesn’t take long after that. Those pretty sounds and the way your cunt squeezes his cock so good have him right there with you. You cum together, his seed coating your walls so thoroughly, there’s no way you won’t get pregnant from this. Unless you let it all leak out. He at least as the presence of mind to get you on your back to help keep it in. He watches as some of his cum drips out of your spent hole and without a thought, he gathers it on his gloved fingertip - in his haste he hadn’t taken off his driving gloves - and pushes it back inside you - deep inside you. He does this over and over again, making sure his cum stays in, ushering it back with his thick fingers, up to your cervix. His thumb slides over your clit and the tips of his fingers inside you are coaxing you toward your next release. You want him to fuck you again. To make the most of your ovulation window. “Do you think we could go again?” He slips his fingers out, only leaving you empty for a mere moment before he fills you up with his cock. “Mi vida, I’m not stopping until you can’t hold one more drop.”

The words pour out of you. Never before have you had such inspiration to write a story. You’re awash in the glow of post-writing when you realize that now you have to post it. For Jake (if it’s really him) to see. You just wrote filthy smut for your celebrity crush. By his request, but still.

Normally you look over it for a quick proofread/revision before putting it out there for the world to see. But you’re pretty sure you’ll change your mind if you don’t just post it as is. So you add a note to the A/N section and send it off into the abyss of the internet.

You want to log off. Go do something, anything else. But the thought of someone else seeing his reply before you do makes you seethe with jealousy. So you stay connected and obsessed and watch for replies.

You’re still getting a stream of notifications so you ignore those and refresh the page with your post every few seconds to start, and then only every 30 seconds. You get some likes, then some comments and reblogs. You don’t even read them when you see they’re not from him.

Finally after what seems like forever, but is really about ten minutes judging by the timestamps, he replies.

i didn’t know i had a breeding kink until just now. you’re a goddamn genius. also my cock is way bigger than you described.

While you’re still recovering from this praise, you get a dm from him. You have to take some deep breaths before you open it.

Jake: do you know you’re my favorite writer? would you like to see a pic of my cock, you know, for inspiration?

You: Wait. Are you serious?

Jake: yeah, i love all your work.

You: NO, about the other thing.

Jake: only if you promise not to share it. it’s only for you.

You: I promise. If you’re not comfortable though, it’s all good.

Jake: ok, here it is.

The pic comes through and it is indeed a massive cock. Just not the kind you were hoping for. It’s a very large rooster. Like a rooster photoshopped to be huge.

You: 🙄🙄🙄

You: You know if I had really expected you to send one I’d be disappointed right now.

Jake: sorry, cariño. i’m looking at the dick pic i took and now i'm thinking i’ve over-promised what i have. 😰

You: I can promise you that I will like it, but there’s no pressure to send anything.

The dots appear and disappear a few times as you await his response. You’re about to change the subject, when his reply pops up.

Jake: está bien, look what your fic did to me.

And a second later a picture of the finest cock you’d ever seen. You waste no time replying, wanting to reassure him that you indeed love it.

You: oh fuuuuuuuck 🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤

You: Is this really yours?

Jake: you’ll just have to trust me 😈

It does its job and inspires you. You feel inspired all night long. But you don’t write one word.

-

You’ve never spent so much time on tumblr as you do for the next few days. You dm with Jake a little bit, but he’s a busy man and you only get to talk for a few minutes here and there. You’re addicted to his blog though. He’s reblogging so many fics and answering asks. You’re pretty sure he has his queue set up and he just blasts these things in the few minutes he probably gets to spend on here.

On a tender Marc x Reader fic where Marc opens up about his past and then has emotional sex with the reader, he’s commented:

that’s pretty good, but marc cries more during sex.

And on a Steven x Reader fic where the reader is dominant, taking what she wants from Steven and pegs him:

this was fucking hot, but steven would be hard from the moment you looked at him. if your hand is down his pants, he’s already at full attention. #why is it always steven who gets pegged? #i feel left out

Someone asks him if Steven and Marc are also on tumblr and he replies that they don’t even know that he’s on here.

It’s shameful how often you look at his dick pic. He hasn’t asked you to, but you want to return the favor. You spend some time taking a good pic of your tits and you want to send it to him, but you have to figure out how to broach the subject with him.

He’s just caused a stir by posting:

thinking about getting a cat now.

And after lots of comments with suggestions on what to name the cat, he creates a poll.

He dm’s you with the question:

Jake: can you explain to me why everyone wants me to have a cat?

You: We can just tell you’re good with pussy 😏

Jake: jajaja, so you don’t know either

You: Forget it, Jake. It’s Fandomtown.

Jake: !!!!

Jake: one of my fav movies

Since you’re the queen of non-sequiturs, you write

You: Hey, could I send you something?

Jake: like…in the mail? 🤔

You: Uh, no. Like a picture? Of me?

Jake: absolutely! i’d love to see your face.

You: Welllll it’s not of my face

Jake: you have my attention

You: It’s a tit pic. Is that ok?

Jake:

You take a deep breath and remind yourself that he’s a guy and guys like tits. You send it to him and the one second that ticks by before he’s typing makes your heart skip a beat.

Jake: 🍆💦💦💦

Jake: tan hermosa. quiero tocar y besar y lamer y chupar y poner mi cara en ellas [So beautiful. I want to touch and kiss and lick and suck and put my face in them]

Jake: if i stop responding i want you to know it’s because i'm stroking my cock while drooling over your tits.

You: That’s perfect. It’ll give me some time alone with your dick pic.

Jake: dffdsdsadsajkl you’re trying to kill me woman

-

It’s strange how something so incredible can become so normal in the span of days, but it’s hard to remember what it was like before Jake was being a menace in the fandom. Not that it wasn’t still exciting, every post, every comment, every ask. But you no longer had to pinch yourself to prove it was real.

In fact it was so usual, it felt strange when he seemed to disappear for a few days. You missed him, but you didn’t wonder about it too much. He was a busy man, a superhero, a cabbie and shared a body with two other whole people.

His absence gave you some time to catch up on your tbr list, reply to comments and get to requests. You’re in the middle of an engaging back and forth on a thread when you get a request on anon.

can i request a fic of reader holding jake (preferably against your perfect tits) as he cries?

It’s him. You know it’s him. Was he even trying to disguise himself? You sprint to your dms.

You: Everything ok, buddy?

Jake: whatever do you mean? 😇

You: 🤨 Ok, ok, brb.

You get to work right away.

Get Closer to Me It’s later than the usual time that your husband, Jake, comes home. He always tells you not to wait up for him, but you struggle to fall asleep without him so you might as well stay up watching TV. You’re in one of his T-shirts. It smells like him and the soft cotton caresses your bare skin underneath. Finally you hear the click of his key opening the lock. He steps over the threshold, tired from his night of protecting the city. Something’s wrong. You can tell by the way he doesn’t meet your eyes. If not for the protection of his suit, you’d fear he’d been hurt. He lets you lead him over to the couch where you sit him down. You take off his shoes for him and then sit back. As soon as your ass touches the cushion, he throws his arms around your middle and buries his face in your chest. You’re about to ask him what’s wrong when you feel his body shuddering with sobs. As much as you rely on his strength, it’s times like this when he trusts you with his vulnerability that makes you feel closest to him. You cherish the moments you get to be his rock. A wet spot blooms between your breasts, soaking in his tears. You run your hands through his hair, using your other hand to graze your nails on his back. You lay together in the stillness and silence of the night until his breath calms and his grip on you eases. You kiss the top of his head and he shifts, nosing the space between your breasts and placing a hand beneath your shirt, traveling over your ribs to squeeze at your flesh. “Jaaake?” you ask lightly, drawing out his name. “Hmmm?” he replies. “What are you doing?” From where his face is firmly planted in your chest, comes his muffled answer, “It’s soothing.” Your body shakes with laughter and relief. If he’s fondling your tit, he’s back to his usual self. There’ll be time tomorrow for talking about what was bothering him. But for now, it was time to take your husband to bed.

You’ve never written or posted something so fast. Before you can even tag him by adding your tag list in a reblog, he’s reblogged it with the comment:

THAT’S WHERE YOU CUT IT OFF?! #why are my eyes suddenly wet #boobies make everything better #currently accepting hugs

Then you get a dm:

Jake: gracias, cariño. i’m feeling much better. 🥹

You: Glad I could help! ❤️

-

One thing that you and Jake had bonded over was being New Yorkers. Despite not having it in your bio, Jake could tell you were one based on your posts. He messages you that he’ll be in town in just a few days.

You: Are you excited to be coming home?

Jake: i’m more excited to be closer to you.

Wait. Was Jake actually flirting with you?

Jake: do you think i could meet you while i’m there?

Holy shit holy shit holy shit. For the first time in a while you worry that maybe this guy isn’t really Jake. Because it’s not possible that Jake Lockley wants to meet you, right?

When you don’t respond, he messages:

Jake: no pressure if you’re not comfortable.

You: No, I’d love to meet you. It’s just… you could be anyone on the other side of this screen.

Jake: ah. would you like to chat on video?

He gives you his number and you take a few short minutes to freshen up and find a spot with good lighting before you video call him. He picks up right away, his smile lighting up the screen.

“Cariño, eres muy bonita,” he croons. [You are so pretty]

You put a hand over your face in embarrassment.

“No, no, no, don’t cover that pretty face!”

He’s walking around his place, the background shifting behind him as he moves around.

“What are you doing?” you ask him.

“Packing.” He sets up his phone and holds up two pairs of pants. “What do you think? Tight jeans or grey sweats?”

He’s rendered you completely speechless, your mouth is hanging open but no sounds come out.

“¿Por qué no los dos?” He shoves both in his suitcase and picks up his phone, but before he can continue his conversation with you, his attention is drawn to something or someone off camera. You don’t hear anyone but Jake listens with a stony face, then rolls his eyes.

“Lo siento, cariño. I have to go.”

“Was that Khonshu?” you ask, all amazement.

“Unfortunately. See you in a few days?”

“Yeah, see you then.”

You hear him start to yell, presumably at Khonshu, as he hangs up the call.

-

Jake: no don’t send me your address.

Jake: if i find out you give random people online your address i’m going to be mad. you should care more about your safety.

You were texting with Jake, trying to make plans to meet up and though it would be convenient to have him at your place, he doesn’t want to put you at risk. If an enemy of his sees him there, your place would be compromised.

You: Oh, but it’s ok if I send a random person on the internet a picture of my tits?

Jake: uh, yeah, your tits are beautiful, you should share them with the world.

You’d managed to fend off the nerves until the day of. Now as you make your way to the intersection you’d agreed to meet at, your heart feels like one of those huge timpani drums and like a gorilla is erratically banging on it.

There’s a crush of people and tourists on the sidewalks and you’re not sure how you’re supposed to find him. Though you are like extra super early, so perhaps he’s just not here yet.

As you scan across the street, you walk by a line of yellow cabs - and nearly walk right past him. He’s leaning against his car, flat cap pulled down covering his face, and gloved hands holding a newspaper. He’s reading a newspaper. An actual goddamn newspaper of all things.

He lowers it when you stop in front of him. His eyes scan you and a smile spreads on his lips. “Would you like a ride, señorita?” he asks, one eyebrow raised.

He folds up his paper and tosses it into the passenger seat through the open window, then opens the back door for you. For a moment you’re worried he doesn’t recognize you, but then you step toward the door and his hand is on your lower back guiding you into his car. He leans down to your ear to tell you it’s nice to meet you and that you look beautiful today.

You’re too caught up to reply. Up close his brown eyes are even deeper and richer than you could have imagined. His touch is gentle and comforting but the strength in him is unmistakable. And best of all his scent, sharp and heady, his cologne a perfect complement.

Your body still tingles from his touch as he circles around from the back and slides into the driver’s seat. As soon as he shuts his door, it feels like the two of you are in a little bubble. He meets your eyes in the rearview mirror. “Sorry about the pretense. Can’t be too careful these days. Never quite know who’s watching.”

“That’s okay,” you try to say, but it comes out in a croak. You clear your throat, embarrassment racing up your neck. “So, um, where are we headed? Your place?”

He pulls out into the flow of traffic, and glances in the mirror at you. “We don’t keep a place here. When we visit we usually stay with a friend.”

You wonder if you should be jealous of this friend until you realize he probably means…”Frenchie?”

Jake barks out a laugh. “I’m so glad you all use your powers for smut. If any one of you became a villain we’d be so fucked.”

“‘So fucked’ is kind of what I’m going for.” You can’t believe you said that out loud. Apparently you have no control over your mouth when your panties are soaked.

Jake doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, though you are busy admonishing yourself in the backseat, it doesn’t stop you from catching the way he bites his lip and tightens his grip on the wheel.

Before you can restart the conversation, Jake pulls into a parking deck underneath a hotel and slips into a spot. Was-was he recreating your fic?

You stay in the back as he gets out. He comes around to your door and you expect him to climb in but instead he offers you his hand.

“We’re not staying in the car?” you ask him as you take his hand and he pulls you out.

Amusement flickers in his eyes. “No, cariño. Cab sex is hot in theory but there’s not nearly enough room for what I have planned.”

You’re thankful to still be holding onto him because your knees go weak at that.

As you wait for the elevator, it occurs to you that you don’t know for sure that this is Jake Lockley. Like the real Jake Lockley. There were known to be lookalikes that posed as various superheroes. What if you’d been duped by one?

You’re quiet in the elevator. And through the grand lobby of the hotel complete with a fountain. And when Jake nods to the man dressed very nicely at the reception desk and says, “Buenas tardes, Eduardo.” And when the man returns the nod and says, “Señor Lockley.” And when Eduardo looks right at you and Jake says, “This is [your name].”

You don’t speak until Jake has opened the door to his hotel room and you hesitate before crossing the threshold and you blurt out, “How do I know you’re you?”

His eyebrows lift in surprise. “How do any of us know who we are?”

God, he’s funny and charming. Even if this turns out not to be the real Jake Lockley, you might fuck him anyway.

“No, I mean how do I know you’re actually you. You look like Jake, but you could be some impersonator, right?”

“Oh, I see.” He ponders for a moment. “If you’re comfortable coming into the room, perhaps I could show you something.”

You still hesitate.

“Okay. No. Good,” he says. “You have a survival instinct after all. Here, I’m going to go in. You watch from the door, but only open it enough for you to see in, okay?”

You nod and Jake goes in and you hold the door open just enough like he said. He turns around and while turning, his clothing appears to morph into a black and white suit, complete with a cape that you know only too well. Your jaw drops open because it’s one thing to see it from a recording where your brain is used to seeing all manner of crazy CGI. But it’s another to witness it right in front of your own two eyes.

You rush in, letting the door close behind you. “Oh my god,” you gush. “Can you keep it on?”

He embraces you and delivers a kiss that feels completely natural like the two of you have done this hundreds of times before, but also nothing like you’ve ever experienced. And maybe that’s one and the same. His breath is minty, and you swear he’s wearing cherry chapstick.

“That will defeat the point, won’t it?,” he says. “This thing doesn’t have a zipper. Besides, it’s really itchy.”

He transforms back while you’re still in his arms, and you have to admit you like him better this way anyway.

It’s not anything like your fics and that makes it magical. There’s more fumbling and laughter and friction. He’s not some love god and you’re not a siren. But there is desire, and it is real.

-

That One Night Summary: When your date stands you up, but you’re lucky that it happens in the same bar that Jake Lockley frequents. A/N: Special shoutout for the inspiration, you know who you are You’re in Jake Lockley’s hotel room. In the bed. And you’ve just laid eyes on the swollen spear he calls a penis. Your gulp is cartoonishly loud, and your legs press together like they’re Shaggy and Scooby in a haunted mansion. “Don’t worry, cariño. I’m going to get you really wet,” Jake says, crawling on the bed toward you and gently prying your legs open. He settles his face between them and when his tongue touches your clit, your legs fall all the way open and you sink into the bed. You marvel at the way your night has gone. From getting stood up, to trading looks with the hot stranger across the bar, to now being in said stranger’s - no he told you his name, so technically he’s not a stranger anymore - bed. He lifts his mouth off of you and you whine in protest, but he shushes you and a fingertip circles your entrance before dipping gently in. He goes slow, tantalizingly, excruciatingly slow. He works you until you can take two of his thick fingers, then his lips return to suck gently on your swollen nub. He didn’t lie. You are soaking wet, the puddle beneath you more like a lake. You’re at the edge when he asks, “Do you want your first orgasm on my fingers or my dick?” Your body doesn’t give you a choice, the image of either sending you over, and you clench down so hard on his fingers, he mutters, “Fuck.” He sweetly kisses his way up your body as you come down. Planting them on the soft skin of your belly and spending his time covering every inch of your breasts. He ignores your pleas to be fucked, waiting instead until your breathing slows and the coil inside you relaxes. You look up into his deep brown eyes and caress his face, wanting to know this man, his story, his life, what brought him to you tonight. “Ready?” he asks, and you nod. Despite how slippery you are, he’s still big enough for you to feel the stretch. He eases himself into you, breathless praises falling from his mouth. “Doing so good for me.” “You’re taking me so well.” “Tu cuerpo me maneja tan bien.” [Your body handles me so well] When he’s reached your depths, he stays there, letting you get adjusted around him. “Why don’t you show me how you like to play with your tits?” he suggests. You’re self-conscious at first but he watches you, hypnotized, while you tug at your nipples and knead your flesh. It relaxes your pelvic floor enough that Jake can fuck into you. Gently, until he learns how far into you he can go. He’s like a fucking paperweight inside you and you tell him so. “It feels even better from behind,” he informs you. And that’s how you find yourself on your knees, Jake behind you, his heavy cock dragging across your G-spot back and forth with every thrust, the pressure building up until it’s nearly blinding, your legs shaking so bad that he has to hold you up, which is a good thing because your body goes limp when your release comes, and then his cock is jumping inside you (‘twitching’ is too tame for what this monster can do), his spend replacing the weight of him. The bed is soaked, your legs are a sticky mess, and the night is just beginning.

The writing came easy but you debate posting, wavering between wanting to keep your experience to yourself and knowing that no one but you and Jake would know the truth. Ultimately, since you had kept the most personal parts out of the fic and it felt somewhat removed from the real thing, gussied up as it was to be smut-worthy, you decide that you want to share it, and as usual, you click the damn button before you could change your mind.

You wait a while before checking the interactions. This time not caring as much what other people would say, or whether anyone would read it at all. There is only one person’s feedback you’re interested in. And it’s there the next time you open tumblr:

sounds like a really good time. like something i’d like to do again.

[tribalauthor]

THE WISEWOMAN (roman reigns ff) <chapter 6>

word count: 2.5k

Sophia's POV:

Heat was roaming over my whole body as I was sitting on Roman's lap, body to body or more precisely clothes to clothes.

Mouth to mouth.

We were having a heated makeout session with slow and sloppy kisses and some little moans coming out of us.

I could feel his not so short beard tickling my whole face. Unfamiliar sensation for me since I have never made out with a too bearded guy. I could also feel his huge hands on my butt and squeezing it.

We stopped for a bit to take a breath and stare at each other. The spark of lust in his deep brown eyes let me know what he wants.

However, it's not the time or place.

"I think we must stop." I spoke through my heavy breaths.

I abruptly opened my eyes and slightly lifted my head.

What dream did I just have?

I swear this didn't happen in real life.

Me and Roman just drank ONE glass of wine then we took a nap, we got in New York and he drove me home. That's it.

I checked the time on my phone and it's almost noon.

I got home really late or must I say early - around 5am.

After I did my morning routine I put on some gray sweatpants and dark blue blouse, ready to drink my coffee and do some pilates.

Maybe talk to mom if she is here. I know it's Saturday but being a surgeon is very, very demanding job and you have to be available 24/7.

It has been like this since I remember myself.

Couldn't spend too much time with my mom, so basically my dad raised me...until he died 9 years ago.

Although it has been almost a decade, you can never get over the pain of losing a parent especially when he was so close to you.

During my college years uncle was the one who supported me to pursue my dreams. He even helped me a lot with the studies and everything.

I learned a lot from him.

I remember ever since I was a kid my dad always told me that I resemble uncle in so many ways. He even said it's like I'm uncle's daugher and not his.

My dad was way different from uncle though. While uncle has this formal, practical persona and so on, my dad was more of like a free spirit.

He was changing jobs constantly. Couldn't really keep himself in one place. I remember him and mom always argued. He just didn't like the idea of mom bringing more money at home than him. That fact was crushing him every single day until he decided to overdose and end it all.

It's kind of stupid, if you think about it, ain't it?

He could have just asked for a divorce and still be here with us but I know dad loved mom with his whole heart although mom is a very, very difficult woman.

Perfectionist at its finest, unemotional, smart.

I mean she needs these qualities for her job, I know that but I admit she is not easy. I also admit that I inherited a lot from her and it's not just the looks.

As I went downstairs to make myself some coffee I heard some voices chattering.

Oh God, did she invite somebody?

When I got in the living room, I saw my mother drinking coffee and eating with my two best friends from college - Tina and Cleo.

My two beautiful, 10/10 best friends who've been by my side since first year of college.

Tina is a long haired brunette woman with light brown eyes, skinny body and the most beautiful smile in the world and I mean it. A literal angel came from heaven and she got married a few months ago to a very good man.

He is meant just for her.

Cleo is a curly girl with light brown skin and hazel eyes. Body is tea, fashion sense too and she got engaged last month. Therefore we shall expect a wedding soon.

"Somebody forgot she invited guests over the weekend." mom scolded me.

I put my hand on my temple.

"I'm so sorry, girls." I said as I went to the table and hugged them.

"It's okay, Soph. You are a busy Wise Woman." Cleo teased me and I rolled my eyes playfully.

"Oh me and Noah watched Smackdown last night. He is a big fan of the show and suddenly I am too." Tina chuckled and I slightly wrinkled my lips.

"Me and Jeremiah too. He is crazy for WWE." I scratched my neck. "You were amazing, girl. Best thing of the night and I'm not biased."

"Thank you." I batted my eyelids and looked at mother.

"I took a few glimpses. Sometimes I think you came out of your uncle, not from me." she stated and shook her head. However, she didn't quite use a cold tone, it was rather proud in a way. Judging by her expression, she is lowkey proud.

"That guy Roman is something else though. I made a comment how hot he is and Jer...just agreed." my jaw fell on the floor. "He is his favorite."

"Oh my God." I put my hand on my mouth and headed to the coffee machine in the kitchen box.

"A normal man would feel jealous but he said 'yeah, I know' and continued watching." Cleo still seemed in disbelief but so am I.

"Noah likes Cody more but he made an interesting statement." Tina hinted something and I turned on the machine while being all in ears. "He said that Roman and Sophia look cute together."

"He said what?" I turned around immediately in shock.

"He said that he envisions a deeper storyline with you two." she added and I furrowed my eyebrows.

"Storyline as in the show or storyline out of the show?" my mom asked in case she didn't understand.

"I think he meant in the show but who knows." Tina replied as I grabbed the ready coffee and went to them.

"So what's going on with yall?" I finally sat on the table.

Roman's POV:

Right now I am training with Jon and Josh in my home gym. Whenever we can, we train together. We have always been together.

Especially with the twins. We've been like triplets our whole lives. They are my closest family and friends that I have, to be honest.

We literally grew up together ever and have been through so much long before WWE.

"Uce, that Paul niece...goddamn." Josh started speaking while lifting his weights. "Seems like a big gem."

"Yeah, she completely nailed it last night." I agreed.

"And you want to nail her, don't you, Joe?" Jon just put me in the hot chair.

"What?" his younger twin furrowed his eyebrows. "Uce..."

"My plans are long-term." this is what I decided to reply.

Josh seemed really confused as hell.

"She is Paul's niece and probably around 20 years younger than you...and us." he stated and I rolled my eyes.

"Twelve years." I corrected him.

The twins exchanged looks. Josh was confused and Jon had confirming look.

"These two didn't shut up the whole ride. Me and Yoko had to move to the bedrooms." Jon pointed at me.

"Well, good luck with making a young woman like her fall for you." Josh managed to say and giving me that look of judgement.

"It's like yall don't know me." I was actually disappointed. "I can and I will get her." I declared. Damn. 'Believe that' almost came out of my mouth.

"Well, you better start working cause it seems like she has a lot of admirers and now that she got into the business, they will become even more." the elder twin advised me and I just flashed a smirk, looking down.

"Mission already started." I uttered.

Sophia's POV:

"We are in a process of wedding planning." Cleo said and my jaw dropped.

"Already?! I thought yall weren't gonna rush." I exclaimed.

"We thought that too but we tend to talk about it a lot so me and Jer actually started thinking of concepts." my friend had that amazing glow of a freshly engaged woman and the excitement rush of planning a wedding.

I am really happy that they found the right guys for them. Sometimes I can't help but wonder when I will find mine.

The door bell cut off Cleo's storytime.

Mom got up saying that she will check who it might be.

"As of now we are thinking about a small spring wedding, like a garden party with lots of flowers." me and Tina nodded in agreement, liking the idea.

I suddenly saw my mom going into the room carrying a bouquet with a white wrapping and red flowers.

They looked kinda like lilium but I'm not quite sure.

"These ones seem like a great idea." she got into the conversation and my friends also turned to her, shocked at the view.

"Does my mom have a secret admirer?" I cocked my eyebrow and smirked. I mean she is a pretty attractive woman and she has always been but her next man has to be a billionaire or something.

"They are for you actually." she replied and handed me the bouquet.

The flowers were red on the outside and white on the inside. Insanely pretty and smell amazing, too.

Oh my God.

I saw there was a not so little card in it and it was written 'for Sophia'.

"The WWE men started with the wooing." Tina commented.

"Can you read it aloud? Please." Cleo begged.

"My dear Wise Woman. Seeing you last night trying to read "Goddesses in every woman" (I didn't quite leave you but it still made me think) evoked a thought in my head which goddess hides in you. My first thought was Aphrodite but then I realized you are actually Athena - the goddess of wisdom. I also did a research about her that she is portrayed as a companion of heroes (me in the case). I also checked out that the Roman equation of Athena is Minerva and the flowers you see in this bouquet are Amaryllis 'Minerva' symbolising determination and strength. Also, they kinda look like you ;)

Sincerely from Your Tribal Chief"

I rested my back on the chair trying to process everything I just read right now.

My friends had the same reaction and I swear I could see surprise in mom's face too.

"Holy, these old school men don't play." Cleo grabbed her curly hair. "How many times have you two met?"

"Just two. Last night and when I was hired." I replied.

"Olivia, I think you have a son in law in the way." Tina warned mom.

"Let's see how long he is gonna keep this energy. He is an athlete after all." mom shrugged it off.

"A hella romantic one, though. Goddamn." Cleo swore once again. "Old school men really don't play. This is exactly how you do it."

I bit my lips trying to hide the big grin that would stick on my mouth.

This is romantic, indeed adding the fact that I have always associated myself with Athena and Roman has no idea. He was just thinking about this.

"What are you waiting for? Call Roman and thank him." Tina scolded me.

"Right." I mumbled and took my phone then left the table, so I could talk in private.

He gave me his number the day we met, so we have our contacts.

I dialed his number and I felt my heart pounding fast in my chest.

I am still feel the adrenaline in my blood. This is literally the sweetest thing a man has ever done for me.

"Hey." I heard his bass-deep voice that could drive any woman crazy and I am no different.

"Hi, Roman." I replied with my soft feminine voice.

"I received your present." I continued talking and bit my lip. "Thank you so much for the gesture and especially the astonishingly detailed card." I chuckled slightly. "You just left me speechless really." I spoke frankly.

I heard his deep chuckle.

"I am a man of detail, sweetheart. Remember that." he spoke in a matter-of-fact tone and I almost fell to the ground.

A detailed man? Oh my God. Literally my dream.

"I love the flowers too." I added. "Thank you so much once again. Can't spell romantic without Roman." I giggled at the realization I just had and I heard him laughing.

"You said it alone."

"You are welcome, Soph. I am capable of even more but you are gonna see in the future." I swear to God he would wink at me if we were face to face right now.

"Can't wait." I bit my lips.

"By the way, what are your plans for today?" he changed the topic.

"I am hanging out with my friends now then I will work out and then I don't know. What about you?" I literally have no plans for later.

"Well how about we go out tonight?" he asked me.

"Hmm...where?" I replied with a question. I know I shouldn't agree immediately.

"Somewhere nice." I hate him. Why doesn't he tell me the specific place? Did he think about it or he is as of now.

"Okay." I said after a few seconds.

"Great. Be ready at 7. I'm gonna pick you up." Roman said with a note of command which I cannot help but find hot in a way unless he crosses the line.

"See ya." I said and hung up.

Okay, what should I wear?

"Definitely not that" Cleo said with judging tone after I showed them an option from my wardrobe.

"I think you should stop with your snobbish business outfits and pull something out of the slut wardrobe." Tina advised me and started roaming into the clothes in my big wardrobe.

"Something with big cleavage." Cleo gave her clues and she pulled out a very, very short red dress that I have which is more for the club.

"Girls, I am dealing with the face of sports entertainment. He is taking me to a dinner at a very expensive restaurant, most likely and not the local pub, okay?" I tried to explain them the deal since they don't seem to understand.

"Plus, he is an elder man, not one of our peers." I added.

"True." Tina agreed. "Then something classy" she started looking around again.

"And still revealing but noy so much." Cleo yelled after her. "Revealing cleavage but not so short."

"I think I found the one." Tina announced as she pulled out a hanger with black sleevless dress and a black little fur collar.

I put it on me to see where is the length and it's a bit below the knees which makes it perfect, in my opinion.

"Oh my. I completely forgot about this set." I gasped.

"It's even still with the tag on it." Tina almost facepalmed.

"Some black heels and pretty necklace and you are ready, sweetie." Cleo said.

"Plus your signature hair volume and natural curls." Tina made a chef's kiss. "Make him weak."

"He is a professional athlete. There is nothing weak about him." I slapped them with logic once again.

"Okay but he is still a man. Make him nervous." Cleo said in one of these villian-like daring tone.

I licked my lips.

"We'll see." I just said.

[dnickels]

John Irving Poem Playlist

I love the hype around Davechella and wanted to do something a little different- a mixtape of poems, with commentary (desperate self-justification) and bonus poems below the cut

I.

The Lamb, William Blake

The Pilgrim, Sophie Jewett

Self-Dependence, Matthew Arnold

The Light of Stars, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The Wanderer, Unknown, trans. Roy M. Liuzza

Up-Hill, Christina Rosetti

Sir Galahad, Alfred Tennyson

II.

They Could Not Tell Me Who Should Be My Lord, Edwin Muir

God gave a Loaf to every Bird, Emily Dickinson

Ancient Text, Louise Glück

I Find no Peace, Thomas Wyatt

A Secret Told, Emily Dickinson

Mary Magdalen, James Elroy Flecker

Because I Liked You Better, AE Housman

III.

A Better Resurrection, Christina Rossetti

The Temptation of Saint Anthony, Rainer Maria Rilke, trans. Leonard Cottrell OR trans. Len Krisak

Batter my heart, three-personed God, John Donne

At Least to Pray, Is Left, Is Left, Emily Dickinson

'Thou art indeed just, Lord, if I contend", Gerard Manley Hopkins

The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, (LXXXIV- LXXXVI) trans. Edward FitzGerald

I Shall Know why- when Time is over, Emily Dickinson

IV.

Sudden Hymn in Winter, Joseph Fasano

Fable and Decade, Louise Glück

Love (III), George Herbert

Of Molluscs, Mary Sarton

Dark Night of Soul, Juan de la Cruz, trans. E Allison Peers

He Touched Me, So I Live to Know, Emily Dickinson

The Finder Found, Edwin Muir

V.

The Plate, Anthony Hecht

Prospice, Robert Browning

Pietà, Rainer Maria Rilke, trans. Jessie Lemont

DEATH THE COPPERPLATE PRINTER, Anthony Hecht

The Gold Lily, Louise Glück

Futility, Wilfred Owen

Flock, Billy Collins

"What, no Wild Geese?" spiritually Wild Geese is here, tucked in section IV, which might a well be subtitled "The soft animal gets a treat", same with Song of Songs and so many psalms I couldn't pick one. I wanted to try to play with poems that were either new to me or a little further off the beaten track (although there are still some obvious picks but come on was I not going to get some Donne in there?). Frankly, this entire list could have been Emily Dickinson start to finish, it's not yet accepted historical fact that she was an inexplicable psychic witness to the sufferings of the Franklin Expedition but I am submitting my findings to journals as we speak

(sorry Jirv for all the Catholics and extremely suspect Anglicans!!)

I. SEEKING

Whenever I invoke "The Lamb" please know I am reading it with the same menace and sense of foreboding as Patti Smith. Given the vibe I'm trying to cultivate you'd think there would be more Blake, but I think Jirv has such a profoundly different experience with Church Authority and his own conversion experience that he and Blake hardly seem like they share the same faith. Even in a scenario where he managed to unclench, I can't see him espousing a sentiment like The Garden of Love. Maybe if he survived to reflect on his encounter with Koveyook he might groove more with "[Christ] is the only God ... and so am I and so are you."

The only section that has at least a few poets I think Jirv would actually read, namely Matthew Arnold-- the only poem on here that I think isn't very good, I'm sorry to Mr. Arnold but there we are, they were right to light your ass up in Punch. He's here however because I think his work captures a very clear and immediately accessible sense of the early Victorian man striving to be himself, in the sense that he can flower fully into the model of upstanding sober bourgeois middle-class manhood which isn't always attainable for later birth-order sons in a navy overcrowded with officers. The real life Irving's letters touched me very much in that he is both looking for a deeper connection with God, a better version for himself, and in the material world, a way to make enough money to establish himself as capital-R Respectable in a way that swashbuckling at sea or derring-do in the colonies doesn't really allow him. I actually don't know if the years line up for him to have read Longfellow but this stanza:

O fear not in a world like this, And thou shalt know erelong, Know how sublime a thing it is  To suffer and be strong.

Is such a classic mid 19th century "making yourself miserable for ideological reasons" motto. Shades of "Invictus" (which for some reason I don't know if Jirv would vibe with, maybe more of a Crozier poem).

I think you could also call the first section "Voyages", I was struck by how often the real Irving was compelled to relocated to try and make a place for himself in the world in the literal, material sense, and the few letters we have are largely his thoughts on his spiritual seeking-- I was very surprised not to find a settled and secured ticket-to-Heaven holder but someone who still considers himself a student, is still wrestling and grasping and looking for something.

Prithee, Pilgrim, go not hence; Clear thy brow, and white thy hand, What shouldst thou with penitence? Wherefore seek to Holy Land? Stern the whisper on his lip: Sin and shame are in my scrip.

It feels a little much to say 'Jirv is the Galahad of their doomed Grail quest' but frankly, given that no one succeeds, I kind of like the idea of a failed Galahad. It's slightly ahistorical to invoke but once we get into the 1860s and the mid-Victorian chivalric revival Galahad becomes a potent symbol for a kind of chaste imperial knighthood in service to God/Queen/Country. At least one young office who died in WWI was named Galahad, not just a PG Wodehouse joke christening.

II. CRISIS

Obviously there are ten thousand things that could torment the evangelical protestant mind and bedevil one's self-worth and it doesn't have to be "hopelessly in love with your best friend" but I wasn't going to miss a chance for some Housman, was i? Wyatt gives us the money couplet:

I desire to perish, and yet I ask health. I love another, and thus I hate myself.

I had included Flecker's We That Were Friends but felt it was just slightly too self-aware, ditto Rosetti's Winter: My Secret.

III. STRIFE

I think these are all pretty self-explanatory. I could have added ten more Emily Dickinson poems because she is the only one on this earth who gets it (me, the deal, the whole of existence). Hopkins I think is more concerned with the sins of the world than the real life Irving (who, based on the very limited material shared, must be the most laid-back and chill evangelical in human history? Or maybe I spent too long among the Baptists) but I can see Jirv wondering, in the God-proof bunker of his diary, why the wicked are flourishing while he is losing his everloving mind and threatening to lock up ABs for being afraid of ghosts.

Here is the excerpted Khayyam so you don't have to go looking (although you should because its wall to wall bangers) (context: the narrator is standing in a potter's shed, and listening to the vessels talk amongst themselves)

LXXXIV. Said one among them— "Surely not in vain My substance of the common Earth was ta'en And to this Figure molded, to be broke, Or trampled back to shapeless Earth again." LXXXV. Then said a Second—"Ne'er a peevish Boy Would break the Bowl from which he drank in joy; And He that with his hand the Vessel made Will surely not in after Wrath destroy." LXXXVI. After a momentary silence spake Some Vessel of a more ungainly Make; "They sneer at me for leaning all awry: What! did the Hand then of the Potter shake?"

"Did you make me just to smash me, God?"

Runners-up for this section included Rossetti's The Three Enemies, which only didn't make the cut because I think its slightly uneven compared to the rest of this work and this list has become pretty Rossetti-heavy. Ditto De Profundis.

IV. ACCEPTANCE

Also pretty self-explanatory. Mystical union with Christ or a very special sergeant of the marines, or both! Is it canon? No! But I like to think that even just one time...

If you read any poem on this list please read 'Love (III)' and 'The Finder Found', the latter of which is my 'Wild Geese'. It seems self-serving to say I cried when I read it but I did. Meanwhile Herbert is goated and his entire work could be listed here but hearing Love (III) read aloud made me understand what poems could do.

I cheated putting two Glück poems for one but given that they were published together in that magazine I think its ok. Here's even more cheating: The Undertaking would be in there if I could squeeze it on the same line. "The darkness lifts, imagine, in your lifetime" PLEASE

Runners-up here were Larkin's First Sight, which just doesn't quite fit but I love for the sense of spring coming to someone who doesn't know there's anything other than winter deprivation, and A Shropshire Lad XI (On your midnight pallet lying) which I LOVE but again doesn't quite jive with the theme, but I do imagine it as a bridge poem between this section and the last...

V. DOOM

A little bit of Browning, who might squeak in under the line of plausibility (though perhaps not this poem) as Jirv sets out on the death march with waning faith that is not, in fact, a death march but then his journey ends in Stabtown, population: YOU. "The Plate" in this case would be that faith and knowledge of being loved that remains even after hardship and the final lost battle, maybe even literally in the meat from his stomach. But misery and death put all the men on the rack and instead of salvation they are essentially tortured to death, often long enough to crush/squeeze out any semblance of humanity and leaving the animal capacity for violence.

"Futility" could encompass the whole sorry venture but in specific the shot of Jirv's body after all the effort to make contact with someone would could help. Was it for this? "Exposure" also a strong contender for "the long slow process of freezing to death for unclear reasons".

"Flock" of course-- God needs martyrs.

[lgbteca]

Lets be clear: while I believe that this union makes sense from a narrative perspective, I'm not blind to the implications of Marta marrying a man in an era when being a man meant being almost equal to God. However, given my trust in the writers, I am confident that a written agreement will be put in place to protect both Marta and Pelayo, as well as the empresas, from any potential harm. The specific terms of the alianza will be determined by the parties involved, given that it is a business agreement and they are highly competent individuals that have a lot to loose if things go south. Of course Jesus will always be there to brighten up the day.

There will be problems in paradise - obviously!!! -, but not because Pelayo is a man or because he might be a bad homosexual, which I don't think he is. The problems Pelayo will cause to Mafin come from the fact that he is a politician and a very ambitious one. When Marta starts helping him reach his goals, he will want her to get more involved. This means that Fina will get less of Marta, which will be interesting to see. At least from my perspective. Marta will need to deal with all this in a different context to Jaime's. I'd like to see Marta navigate other circles too, and maybe deal with other important gay women when they start noticing her, which they will.

This will cause conflict, but conflict is necessary for a story to develop. Mafin is endgame, but they don't live alone on an island. Would we be happy if our ladies had a boring life from 9 to 5? We're mostly happy with that in real life, but that's not what I want to see on TV.

So, Marta marrying Pelayo doesn't bother me, given the historical context and despite the great, great, artistic liberties they allow themselves. This means the world of Mafin will grow and change and that we can put the idea of danger to the side for a while. There will always be danger, but I want them to be able to handle it without being paralyzed.

I also want to see what will Fina gain from this situation. How can the writers develope her more? What is her potential? Where can she go from here? I think there’s a lot of room for Fina to grown, with Marta and despite Marta.

The conflict can be annoying sometimes but I'd rather have conflict in a story than lose interest in it. And if things don't go as planned, all the better. I love it more when the writers keep us on our toes.

[neonaurore]

is this anything

explanations under the cut

so for this sorta graph it's about rep that is intended as queer so queercoding doesn't count

word of god counts for the purposes of this graph, even retroactively. however retroactively calling your character gay when it has no impact, and then doing nothing in the future to act on it is Bad. so that's why dumbledore here is my first thought when it comes to confirmed, but bad, representation. not like homophobic rep but as in like despite being declared canonically gay it literally doesn't matter because it is not at all relevant to the narrative or good or impactful. plus rowling is a transphobic shitbag anyways but even beyond this it's just not good

the other bad example is FAR worse but not even called queer explicitly--in fact the source media REFUSES to call this character queer, and that's jame gumb ("buffalo bill") from silence of the lambs. despite the insistence that he's not a "real" transgender person, you can still TELL what they're going for. like. come on. we are not fucking stupid. the Implication is there and it's Bad

word of god isn't all bad which is why I put lilith clawthorne in the graph because despite the owl house never outright calling her aromantic asexual she's still good aroace rep (speaking as an aromantic greysexual person). the show was clearly written with it in mind, it fits her character, and even if it wasn't intended at first (which I believe it was) she's confirmed aroace and that's ok confirming it outside the show for me, because it's a lot more natural to SHOW a character being possibly queer and you don't always have to have a character stop and look at the camera and go "I am this". raine whispers is also a good example because they're clearly nonbinary even if not outright said, but I wanted to include lilith as a good example of when word of god can be used right, to just confirm what was apparent but couldn't be naturally stated within the source media

ford pines is interesting and what got me thinking about this. like normally I would not include him because even though he's queercoded as hell in the OG show he was not intended to be. but after the book of bill he most definitely is. and just to be clear no this is not my billford propaganda this is not me calling it the best ship ever before anyone gets their suspenders twist-tied, but ford clearly does have a deliberate implied narrative of being a possibly queer man who reaches acceptance by letting his family in and be accepted for his oddities not just as a person but also within his life choices and mistakes and growing from abuse in an atypical relationship he worried would cast him out if he was honest about it. it's a very new implication, but it's DEFINITELY deliberate and leaned into now. I love it a lot actually. and alex hirsch isn't gonna outright state ford's sexuality and leave it up to the viewer but I kinda like it that way. like confirmed rep is good, but I feel like it's also good to have rep that is also apparent without being outright stated. hence this spectrum. it's just overall well done and I like it. and I made this graph cause I found it funny that he's a better example of queer rep while implied meanwhile there is far worse confirmed rep.

thank you for coming to my ted talk

thinking about like making characters queer after their primary source media has ended. axis that's like "good representation/bad representation" and "outright canonically confirmed outside the main source media" whether that's word of god or just extra supplementary stuff and "not actually stated as canon but heavily implied"

what I'm saying is dumbledor is in the outright confirmed/bad quadrant and ford pines is in the heavily implied/good quadrant

if anyone wants to give other examples to fill the bad/implied and good/confirmed quadrants give me some. I was thinking of lilith clawthorne for good/confirmed cause she's confirmed aroace outside of the show and pretty good rep but I can't think of bad/implied so help me out y'all

[rivrsong]

!!!

[thekittyokat]

you ever just have a lot, a LOT of feelings all at once about a character and not even remotely enough words or brainpower to FORM the words to describe everything you're feeling. so it feels like you may explode. yeah

[fire-in-my-woods]

❗️LIFE IS STRANGE: DOUBLE EXPOSURE SPOILERS❗️

Okay so when are we all gonna talk about Safi cradling Max's face while she asks her if she'll wait for her

[moongothic]

The worst part about trying to figure out what Crocodile's deal is that because he's so fucking irredeemably evil in Alabasta... Like... Yeah he's just irredeemably evil. Like I love him but he did cause countless casualties, a ton of pain and suffering and literally attempted to blow up a million people

Like no amount of theoretical "trying to do it to save his son from the Government" or "trying to stop the Government from hurting anyone else" or just "doing it for the greater good" is going to make him any less of a mass murderer

But also Robin absolutely 100% helped with all of that shit simply because she wanted to read the Poneglyph for herself.

No amount of her intending to betray Crocodile from the begining and sabotaging his plans erases the fact that Robin also caused countless people to starve to death and die in the civil war. Her sabotages only succeeded out of sheer luck, and only spared the lives of the people at the final battle. She has the blood of countless innocents on her hands. Because she wanted to read history.

But her crimes were swept under the rug because she has a sad backstory and her sabotages worked out just at the nick of time by sheer dumb luck

So Croc??? Just??? Is there a chance??? At all???

But also he did literally intend to sell Buggy into slavery

Like, fuck Buggy, but jesus

What's also killing me is that we like. Don't know what Luffy thinks of Crocodile right now. Which really is like. The thing that will decide how we, as the readers, are supposed to feel about Crocodile. Luffy is our POV

Like we don't know what Luffy's opinion of Crocodile is after he helped save Luffy (and spared Ace once) during the Summit War. Like Luffy clearly fucking hated the man in Impel Down and the two interactions they had during the War weren't like positive (in the sense that Luffy himself didn't think of the interactions as particularly positive. Defending Whitebeard from being attacked once and then being like "wait what HIM?!" when Crocodile defended Ace. To be fair, in the midst of the chaos, there wasn't much time to spend on Pondering On Such Things because Ace needed to be saved, and Oda goes out of his way to not show us what's going on inside Luffy's head, because it's all meant to be out in the open anyways. Regardless, these weren't like "yay it's Crocodile! :)" moments for Luffy is what I mean)

But also Luffy was very grateful of Law for saving his life and was willing to put his trust into Law for their alliance- of course, they weren't explicitly enemies to begin with, rivals at most, but still. Luffy respects those who help him.

But also Luffy grew during the timeskip. Like he's not that clueless anymore (like he finally understands Hancock is in love with him etc), and similarly Luffy gets that Buggy is an absolute loser now. But also Buggy did also help save Luffy's life (even if it was by accident), and while IDK if Luffy is aware of that, I don't think that helped improve Luffy's impression of Buggy

So like. The fuck does Luffy think of Crocodile, at this moment? Even with the Cross Guild reveal, he didn't even really comment on Croc and just focused his energy on being confused about Buggy being "the leader" of CG. IDK it feels almost intentional or something, that we don't know what Luffy thinks?? Especially since we did get Zoro's opinion on Mihawk in the situation?? Or am I delulu?? (Sidenote. I'd love to know what Robin would have to say about Crocodile helping save Luffy's life. What Jinbei might think of the final words Crocodile left him with before blasting them out of Akainu's reach. But mainly just Robin's thoughts)

Like IDK my best guess would be that Luffy still hates Crocodile just the same but is like grossed out by technically owing him one??? In the classic

-kinda way, you know? And that he'd be just kinda confused about it?

Because I can't fucking imagine Luffy being like "oh we're cool now" with Crocodile, let alone "Yay Crocodile :) He saved my life!". But also like. Luffy does kind of owe Croc one. Kind of. And Luffy is usually very respectful of that kind of thing. Aaaaaaaa???

(Also does. Does Luffy even know it was Crocodile who yeeted him and Jinbei out of Akainu's reach to begin with. 'Cause he was unconcious. Knocked the fuck out. Does. Does Luffy even know. Did anybody tell him???)

I just.

There's the reasonable part of me that knows Crocodile is an irredeemable evil dickbag and everything he has ever said and done up to the most recent chapters support that. He is too far gone.

And then there's the absolutely delulu part that loves a tragic villian who gets a heartwrenching redemption that's looking for any fucking sign that could indicate Crocodile could maybe be one

[joethehoeee]

I am still alive and I brought you all a gift because it took me so long to post. (That definitely didn’t take long)

So this sound trends on tiktok and I immediately thought of those two. My brain just couldn’t bare the thought that they might never be drawn/edited like that...

but then I realized, I can draw...I HAVE THE POWER!

So I took it in my own hands.

Have fun with this, It might take a while until I am back...tho I do try to be more active. But for now, enjoy the love (and a bit of angst/past trauma.)

Pretty obvious what I was trying to do, right?

It's kind of the fact that Barbara will always have this trauma, this pain that he caused. Even tho she can infact learn to love him again, there will always be this ever so small fear of getting hurt like he did before. She forgave him but she dosen't fully trusts him, at least not yet.

Also Walter reaches after her in his troll form but slowly stops in his human form. He let's her go, he let's the past go, his old self. He realizes that trying to appear more like human self is not the way and that she will only let him in if he is himself. If he is what he was forced and lived to become. A Changeling, tho not a Monster anymore.

I did try to include my headcanon Design for post-Eternal night. Obviously Barb is a little over the top (it's more a outfit for dates) and a new coat for Walter. I would say this takes place like 3-6 weeks after they defeated Morgana, so Walter dosen't really tried to ✨️express✨️ himself fully with his clothing...and i wanted to draw him in his old Design but also in MY and little new style so yeah. NO human clothes for my man. He has no shame, walking around half naked.🤭

Also small headcanon, Barbara likes him better with longer hair and his new style (mixing human/troll together). It makes him look and ferl like a new person and makes it easier for her bc she can see his true self, wich is a bit of both his forms. It's a reminder that not everything he said was a lie.

Do you all know this "She fell first, he fell harder"? Well I firmly believe it's them. Although Walter probably fell first AND harder.

[crow-caller]

good angel turns 7 goddamn years old on the 22nd I'm going to lose my head. did you know bad end is 6.5 years old. Did you know Angel radio is 8.5. Did you know I'm 27. did you know time continues ceaselessly forward and so do i

[gengar-pixel-2]

guys i think i really like those robots

[lululeighsworld]

Lorah: Lilac Knight's Love

Artist: @littledashdraws

Wanted to share this commission by Dash, who so lovingly illustrated my vision for Gunter's first wife!! Although Lorah's lived in my head since 2017, this is the first time I've had her drawn. Because I'm so thrilled over this art, I put together a little introduction for her!! you can read more about her below~

Residence: Duet Mountains Occupation: Farmer •❀• Bedside Nurse •❀• Homemaker Birthday: July 11 Gender: Female Relatives: Gunter (Husband) Katerina (Daughter)* Personality: Shy •❀• Bubbly •❀• Optimistic Hobbies: Crafting •❀• Gardening •❀• Baking Age: 21 (when she first meets Gunter) •❀• 36 (at death)

A Nohrian commoner whose known the kingdom's southern mountain range and neighbouring valleys her entire life, Lorah was a recognizable resident of her town even though she kept to herself. Learning the basics of herbal remedies from a young age, she would split her time between tending to the fields and easing the woes of the sick. In adulthood, she would chance upon meeting a Nohrian Great Knight during her town's annual spring festival. The couple's engagement, after seven years of courting, had become one of the most highly anticipated moments amongst the townsfolk.

*NOT the Nohrian Queen. I named their kid before I realized what Xander's mom's name was and by that point I was already ATTACHED (tell me Caterpillar is not the cutest nickname). So now the reason they share a name is lore relevant (which is a part of this fic!).

divider by saradika

[yourworldiseternallycomplete]

literally fuck!!!

[bosspigeon]

when i was a 15 year old egg i discovered the game Dragon Age: Origins bc a high school friend (a true cishet ally) told me about a video game in which you could be gay

i grew up poor and in the conservative south, so i had no game consoles other than nintendo ones, and every computer i had access to was a "Family Computer" that was in a heavily trafficked room that i had to share with everyone in the house. on top of that, if i asked for video games, my stepmom (number 3) would be upset at me for not asking for something more "mature" (read: feminine)

i didn't get to actually play the game until i was 18

that didn't stop me from watching all the gameplay videos i could find, from furiously trawling the wiki for content, and hunting down all the romance scenes with one specific character while constantly looking over my shoulder for my grandparents or siblings, because i didn't want anyone to see me watching no just Awkwardly Animated "Sex" Scenes Set To Weird Music, but Gay Awkwardly Animated "Sex" Scenes Set To Weird Music

that character was, of course, Zevran Arainai, and years before i was able to play the game and "meet" him myself, i kept the tab for his romance wiki page open in the browser in my computer class, on the desktop in my grandparents' den, peruse it in the dark of the night on the tiny screen of my shitty little 2009 slide phone

by the time i could actually play the game, i knew every decision i'd make, and i could run through Zevran's romance from start to finish with my eyes closed.

And now, once again, I sit here, furiously obsessing over a pretty fictional elf rogue, gnashing my teeth and chewing at the bars of my prison (no gaming pc or console) and furtively watching gameplay and romance videos and trawling his yet-incomplete wiki page in all my spare moments, even when i shouldn't be (at work) and maniacally plotting out how i will handle his romance when a fickle god finally grants me the means to make a little pixel man to kiss his stupid, smug little pixel face

time is a flat circle

[the-spoingus-show]

my current project: jump forever!

this is the first of those scheduled posts i mentioned earlier!!! i figured i would start by talking about my current project - that way i can start posting updates about it without confusing you, Michael. The next post is gonna be about the beginning of this whole Godot thing i've been on, and then i'm thinking about maybe doing a Before Godot post as a bonus once i've talked about all my godot stuff (i love saying this as if anybody cares (besides you, Michael)). setting all that aside, though: this one's gonna need some backstory, so you should buckle in.

around this time last year, me and my little cousin (he's still in high school, but we've always been pretty close) got really competitive about a little game called Jump Forever. it's a side minigame from WarioWare Mega Microgames (the GBA one) where you just jump over a little rope until you fuck up. it's really fucking fun as an addictive little mobile game, and with a quick lil emulator it was one. thus, the addiction began.

truth be told, the phase last year didn't even last that long, but i had a long bus ride a couple of weeks ago and found myself opening the GBA emulator on my phone to pass the time. that led to a little bit of playing at home, which led to beating my cousin's score, which led to getting even more into the game than i was before. as our scores get higher, we've turned to better controllers than a phone touch screen for serious record attempts - i use a ds lite i had lying around (that i reshelled! it was very fun) and he emulates on pc with a controller (i think). this got me thinking about a potential "definitive edition" of the game - probably still on mobile, but with controller support, better touch controls (the game only needs <-, ->, and A!), faster resets, selectable skins, and maybe even unlockable skins? of course, when i finished my work on fnaf (ooh foreshadowing), my sights were immediately set on a Jump Forever remake.

with all that said, welcome to the game as it currently stands! at the moment, i've got wario, the rope swingers, and the score all just about set up, with one exception; the characters have collision, the rope swings (at varying speeds, even!), and wario's speed and physics feel very accurate - but i'm still working on the ai (if you can call it that) of the rope guys as they walk back and forth. i want it to work exactly the same way as it does in the original but i always overthink random mechanics like this. hopefully the next update i give will be about how i cracked it! even if the implementation ends up jank, though, it wouldn't be the first: the rope guys check if wario is too close to them to make it over the rope with an Area2D that just checks for wario when the rope hits the ground. it works! i could just like check wario's position in the code (and it'd probably be way more efficient), but this way just... works.

i still have a buncha crap i still gotta implement before the game's even really playable - the walking ai, the title screen, the little "Ready?" animation, etc. - but that's only the beginning of my work. firstly, i'm probably gonna enlist chloe (oooh foreshadowing) to help me out by drawing some new assets (if she's free, it is finals season), and then changing the game's native resolution from 240x160 (the GBA screen) to something not fucking insane. i've got "reworking all the sprites into easy to read spritesheets" on my to-do list, and after that, making the new assets (and then maybe the skins?) will be as easy as drag & drop. once it's got the new assets and all the polish that needs to come with a shiny new resolution, i'm gonna transition into the next phase - researching how to release a game!!!

[hi, not to ruin my own amazing transition but: it's 5am and i'm running back to edit this because i completely forgot to mention that i have currently implemented a 2 frame input delay on all inputs, because that's how the emulator appears to behave when i go frame by frame. every single day i rethink this decision more and more. surely there's no way that's how it's supposed to be, right? but i feel so weird changing it now!!! i definitely fucking have to though. next time i work on it. ok anyways]

now. i've posted games to itch.io before. but even then, i kind of fucked it up (i could never get the resolution of my web games to work right???) - so it's no surprise i've always been completely daunted by the idea of "releasing a game". when you post it on real stores, that's when it becomes... real. i'm excited about the new challenges it'll pose, though! now, a mobile release means a couple of things - bite sized fun, simple progression, and fun customization. i've already got the first part nailed down, and i figured i could nail the other 2 at once with a currency system based on how many points you get (or maybe even an xp system? that goes up 1 for each jump? maybe even both???) and skins (purchasable with said currency) that let you customize the player, rope swingers, background, and maybe even the rope itself.

pictured above is my stupid ass skins mockup (i literally just made this). the rope is rainbow, the background has a snow effect and a bunch of snow on the trees/ground (isn't it great?), wario is a lil version of the rope guys, and the rope guys have santa hats. i'm not sure how many different ropes you could really make with how i'm planning the rope to move, so i'll probably end up prototyping the graphics with chloe to figure out how to lay out the sprite sheets, and if they should actually have a seperate hand-grabbing-the-rope sprite for skin purposes. it'll definitely make things really confusing, but if i go for a mobile release i don't want to run ads, and so a currency you can buy with real money (and maybe one or two goofy supporter skins that cost real money, like a solid gold guy or something, as a form of donation) is a good way to make a lil bit of money from people who like the game.

all of this is fun to think about, but it's important to remember that the next thing i have to do is that walking ai. i've gotta Make The Fucking Game before i can do all this crazy other bullshit. i'm sure the ui design for all this is gonna be soooo fun, but i need a game to attach it to first :p

this went on reeeally long but i figure if this is a dev diary or w/e it's gonna end up running long no matter what, and the more info, the more i have to look back on fondly and say "oh shit, i know exactly when this was!", which is kind of the end goal of the project. of course, these incredibly long posts about shit that only matters to me are also incredible content for you, Michael, so i'm sure you're just eating this shit up. enjoy, you weird little man.