#not tagging anybody else mentioned

[wonderful-magician]

OK do you ship dinahboose and if you do I NEED YOUR THOUGHTS. ( I saw you where analyzing ceeb’s characterization sooo) if not just use this as a free space to ramble about something else idk 💀

it is 1:am but I am so desperate to ramble and I also will take any excuse to draw any ship I like ever which is almost too many so excuse me if I sound nonsensical

^^!!

OKAY I LOVE DINAHBOOSE obv I've been into this musical for a total of 2 weeks or so- so I'm still scrounging every bit of Information on these guys that I can. And I've done wayyy more research on CB than I have Dinah ( he has a lot more to look at though ) but these two just make sense to me. They just make sense. Opposites but not opposites. They are confusing and they are both confused. But at least they can hold hands while confused.

Personally I struggle to ever hate or dislike ships unless there's like a blindingly obvious reason to dislike a ship. But dinahboose is probably my second favorite ship so far for StEx ( Electraboose has 1st place and Krupp/purse has 3rd )

Totally not gonna use this to talk about my personal rewrite of StEx.. specifically C.B. because I don't want to make a post just for it LMAO.

So yeah I've been basically studying C.B. ( or, I guess caboose because he hasn't been called C.B in a long time... but C.B has more personality.. ) and my version of C.B. is probably a horrible amalgamation of OLC and 2015 Bochum. Because I love radio aesthetics and the Dinah friendship but I also love the toy soldier aesthetic and absolutely batshit laugh ( I also love it when C.B. is played by somebody too flexible for their own good ) hes just a glorified circus clown on wheels with a radio set strapped to his head.

And I wish I could pretend that I understand cutting him but I do and I don't and I do. Because I honestly feel like C.B in the original does more than Electra lmao. But I don't think cutting people is the solution most the time tbh.

Okay onto more half asleep rambling that is likely to change because I'm still in the early stages of this rewrite. But. I recognize that C.B. has some issues. The one most of my friends point out is that he seemingly has no motive. He just... Is silly I guess. And I think this is a bit funny because I do like an antagonist with the motive of " it would be funny " , but at the same time. Kind of hard to make that character very ...er... Well I'll just say it does get a bit boring.

Something I also heard was that in the reasons C.B. has been cut was because caboose's aren't exactly used anymore, which is totally fair!

But could also totally be a motivation! Think about it, why is C.B still working? Still working with the freight despite essentially being useless? Because greaseball wants to keep him around to use him for cheating. Easy! Obviously none of this could easily be translated to the show. But for some comics/writings? Yes. Yes.

Think about it. Rusty is struggling, he feels a bit useless because steam is falling behind! So he tries to win and prove himself. But who else feels useless because of their job being replaced? C.B. but unlike rusty, C.B takes the other path, instead of trying to be a role model and win or prove himself. He just goes down the path of crime. And hey, he's probably a crazy adrenaline junky too so he's still doing it for the fun!

And why does he betray greaseball? Plenty of reasons. C.B might dislike greaseball because of poor treatment, he might dislikes greaseball for his treatment of Dinah, he probably just wants to get the adrenaline high of betraying him in the first place. Maybe to prove that he's important and needed because if he doesn't help, greaseball will lose. And he wants to hold it over him for his own personal desire of self importance. Who knows. He's a complicated little clown he is.

Ok anyway yeah I'm like the #3 Dinahboose supporter I will draw them more hehbehehehee

[beedreamscape]

This has to be the last thing I say on C3 finale because otherwise, I will not stop, it simply baffles me in its mediocrity. And obviously, this will be negative, if you loved it, good for you, this is my takeaway as someone who loved this campaign and was severely let down.

This finale changes everything that came before and not for good, better yet, it emphasizes all the faults in the structure of what c3 tried to be, it made most of the campaign feel like a true exercise in futility — How far can we go in a campaign that is meandering and unsatisfying? How long can we have the same discussion over and over and over again despite everyone knowing how this will end? How long can we drag out characters that don't change without anyone noticing? (spoiler everyone noticed)

Can't say I was emotionally invested in the finale because I tapped out back in the 70s, came back for Aeor/Downfall shenanigans, and left again. But in experiencing the finale something became clear to me:

THIS STORY NEEDED TO BE SHORTER.

WITH ANOTHER PARTY AT THE HELM.

If the objective from the very conception of C3 was to wipe out the gods, that had to be clear from the very start. And it wasn't clear, at all — not in the characters, not in the starting city, not in theme. This was a completely different campaign at the start! That clarity was what made Calamity so great, it was short and precise, and every pc SERVICED THE THEME, filled with hubris and contempt, not to mention the setting.

Even Ludinus went in circles for convenience of the campaign length and became a weaker opponent for it, more of a nuisance than a villain. The threat he posed at episode 50 was much stronger than now at 120 something. The battle against Otohan was more nail-biting and emotionally engaging than fighting Ludinus and Predathos, a god eater!!!!

This campaign would've benefited from three to four acts instead of one overarching objective like the past campaigns because urgency is the name of the game and we can't carry urgency for 70 episodes straight (and they didn't).

The constant inclusion of the other parties made it clear how easy it was to detach BH from the story, how easy and fun it was for them to tell it through another party's eyes (one of the main reasons why I walked away back when I did, but that's more of a personal preference).

Which is not to say Bells Hell's didn't deserve a long story! They could very well have existed in a more intimate campaign which these characters were clearly built for! Their premises begged for closer looks in slow moments, something tragicomical, exploration of the inner world while developing MARQUET and its microcosm of injustice and politics which was left in the dust mid-campaign (pun intended).

And I'm not suggesting this just for our enjoyment, I know it's them playing and their enjoyment comes first blah blah, though this is a multi-million company therefore their jobs but this would contribute to their enjoyment! You could see several moments in the campaign how tapped out they felt and acted. I doubt it was "fun" discussing the gods situation ad naseaum, trudging through landscapes they barely cared about, with empty arcs.

I could nitpick every fault I see in the finale but it would be pointless, these issues have been dragged from ages ago and poor character matching, and now this is a culmination of everything and it barely fazes me anymore.

(And yeah it's their game and it's "free", but that doesn't undermine its weight as a story, stories were made be analyzed, and it was a poorly structured one no matter how much I still like and admire them as people.)

WHICH is not to say I had no fun at all ever, I did! several times! and that's what makes me upset, it could've been great instead is just meh.

[mxmarsbars]

made a little analysis thread on twitter and thought I’d share it here too if that’s chill ^_^

anyways traffic!impulse using self destruction and the destruction of others as a way to cope with his own frustration and resentment throughout the life series: a messy ramble-y post because I’m crazy.

most of this behavior really only starts after third life. his destructive behavior before then is usually outward and not with malicious intent. instead, he hurt others in third life because he was asked to. it was a part of a greater plan he was undoubtably loyal to and that would later get him killed and tarnish his reputation for seasons to come.

that’s why in last life, he’s much more open to antagonistic behavior (which he barely partook in before and only would if asked of). this mostly includes all the stealing he did that season, the numerous break ins, and of course, spawning the wither. this could also include his personal insistence on becoming the boogeyman and even planning it out in advance (which would later get him killed, his own hubris). he was itching for it to be his turn.

it’s such a huge shift from how he acted in third life, and why? personally, I think it’s because of all the strain and pressure put on him by others and their disdain towards him. specifically the rumors spread about him and the reluctance of others to believe and trust him after what he’d done the season prior. which for some people is justified, like ren and etho, but for others, like bdubs, is not. and this was shown to upset impulse a lot, given how it resulted in him being thrown under the bus, even by his own teammates.

but he’s supposed to be nice and considerate and smart to make up for all he’s done, right? that’s why he sticks with his alliance the whole time and makes a point to be loyal to them and them only. but that doesn’t stop the resentment and anger boiling, and he can only take so much before he has to let off some steam, and destructive behavior seems to be a means to do so.

it turns from him doing bad things because he’s asked to to him doing it because he wants to, to cope. which is why when all else fails and the southlands fall apart, despite him taking the measures to prevent it earlier on, he helps grian spawn the wither, even with the risks and deaths. and he insists on doing it at best’s base, because they ruined him. it gets him killed. he should’ve been smarter.

it gets worse in double life, specifically when homewrecking is proposed. while he’s not the one to bring it up or start the rumors, he soon grows comfortable enough to start talking smack himself. him and bdubs deliberately try to ruin the relationships of others, and they tell themselves it’s to steal away half of each pair for their own benefit, but maybe there’s more to it. maybe they ARE projecting, just like joel had said.

it doesn’t help that impulse is having his soulbound questioned and bdubs “needs” a clock and the horns won’t shut up. when they’re exposed, he takes his destruction to the deep dark. he throws snowballs, he spooks unsuspecting people, he yells into the dark when he finds out his voice can trigger the sensors. throughout the season, he makes multiple efforts to cause distress in the deep dark, malicious intent or not. and maybe it’s to cope with the fact that bdubs keeps sending him down there or etho won’t stop yapping about how bdubs doesn’t want him or how bdubs put a major target on their backs.

and this is when self destructive behavior really starts, too. impulse gives away valuable resources when he realistically could’ve not, he takes risks he absolutely doesn’t have to take (despite how much he values his and, by extension, bdubs’s life), when he’s linked to the fishing rod sequence of death, all he says to bdubs is that it was fun while it lasted. and then he loses their first life trying to get a music disc.

whether he means to or not, he’s slowly killing himself and his soulmate, too. and eventually, by the time he’s red, he just gives in. he starts blowing horn (surely there’s some symbolism there), he terrorizes those better off than him, he wants to cause problems. yet there’s always still some humanity in him that shines through, regardless of his destructive ways of coping.

but this isn’t about that. before the final fight, he even grabs the golden apple him and bdubs had been stashing away, saying if they can’t win, no one can. he would’ve ate it. he should’ve ate it. yet he didn’t, and he died by bdubs’s hand again. more resentment grows.

by limited life, it’s obvious he’s open to dabbling into more chaotic pastimes. bdubs’s ignorance and unwillingness to see his flaws and apologize only fuels the fire. when he’s chosen as the boogeyman, he has a time with it. but he still has the mind to know not to hurt his team, even refusing to use skizz’s accidental death to cleanse himself. but he bombs bread bridge freely, somehow even getting tango and skizz to help him. it’s almost concerning how much fun he has with it.

then of course there’s the complete destruction of bread bridge, which he happily takes part in. and tango’s boogey kill on bdubs, in which he lures bdubs to his demise (something he had been itching to do for seasons). he amasses a huge kill count over the season, his first time murdering anyone since third life.

most of his behavior this season turns more outward, and he grows more keen on sustaining himself the more faith his team puts in him. he is also shown to hold other alliances much less dear than ties, even if they benefit him. this results in the betrayal of many, most notably mean gills in the finale. he fights like hell, he gets his final revenge on bdubs and ends his season, and yet it still isn’t enough.

he begs martyn to kill him, because he’s alone, and he’s scared, and he did all he was asked to do. but they keep him around, despite his pleas. he’s given the illusion of free will, a chance to win, to be given a fair fight. martyn slaughters him in cold blood. a cruel betrayal.

secret life feels like a reset, and most scores are settled, and secret tasks heavily dictate how the sessions go. he isn’t given the chance to cause mass destruction like he could the season prior. he’s not sure if he wants to. most of his mistakes are honest, no self destructive or malicious intent, same with his tasks.

he’s with a team he can trust and confide in. they help him. they care about him. his first two deaths are consensual and willing, something’s he’s never known. the season is rough, but he’s happy. he tries to use his trap as he’s being chased, risky as it was, a final act of stubbornness.

he dies, alone and scared, hearts quivering. nothing’s new. he’ll just have to be ready to cope again tomorrow. get some blood of his hands, whether it’s his enemies or his own.

[autism-swagger]

I found Rick and Phin's graves in Spider-Man 2, and, on a whim, decided to look at their birth and death dates.

Up until now I was under the impression that Rick's death was recent in Spider-Man: Miles Morales. Like, it happened right before the events of the game.

He died in 2017. The game takes place in 2020.

Phin was alone for three years.

[kjzx]

I think this person just unintentionally described the appeal wtnv has for me

[sega-saturn-arcade]

Despite the miniature hell I’ve been going through recently (which is the reason as to why I have been inactive anywhere but discord and amongst about five friends), I’ve thought about me Subspace a lot, both of them, but mainly 2space. This is a more rambly post because why not? I’m in a very thoughtful mood right now.

VERY LONG RAMBLE UNDER CUT. LIKE VERY LONG. YAPPATHON SHIT.

There’s something about me that through about every life there’s been this spark of defiance. This vague sense of justice, no matter what somehow. For Klavier, it was a strong sense of justice, but that spark of defiance was shown in Turnabout Succession. For Poob that defiance was very strong, the fact I ran and I refused to be pushed around after a bit. Lychee, even though I was a little piece of pretty irredeemable shit, I was still defiant against Logan and trying to out manipulate him. etc etc, you get the jist. I am not going through my entire kinlist for this, but it’s something that’s a strange reoccurrence in my kins: If there is something wrong that is able to be pushed back against, I will push back.

Subspace is such an interesting case to me however. This is the guy who in canon is loyal to Blackrock no matter what, who loves his faction and mindlessly goes along because he’s (and I mean this in the CANON sense as stated at the beginning of this sentence as per confirmed essentially by the Subspace spawnday video, for clarity—SPECIFICALLY talking about in-game Subspace) been brainwashed by the faction’s government. Yet, for me, that never happened. Twice, mind you. Twice. And both times, they hated their situation. They hated being there, wanted to escape. This feeling of entrapment that haunted me for both lives and haunts me throughout each cycle, for the most part.

The life I rotate between calling “Fuzzspace” and “Prince Subspace” is one that me and my girlfriend have both figured out was some very strange swap AU. I was the Prince of Blackrock, and my father was what we call “The Crystal King,” as we do not remember his name. I remember being pressured to continue Blackrock’s glory, to continue and accept the ideals and whatnot Blackrock gave me. I always felt like I was guilt tripped into and forced to even though my heart lay somewhere else. I wanted to see the world, escape that god forsaken faction. And then Coil came along, and was assigned to me (in some way) because the King saw potential. The more we talked, the closer we got—he talked about these grand adventures of Lost Temple, of the places he visited with Sword. Things that fascinated me, things I had simply read about in the permitted books that Blackrock had.

We both agreed to try and escape the faction because of how awful it was. This defiance was always there with me and Coil I feel made me do something about it. Of course, because of it they stripped me of royalty and beheaded me when they caught me (as I did not escape, but Coil did. Shit sucks lawl). But still, I remember even if captivity when they forced me to turn my Biografts into war machines and use me up for my science understanding I was still defiant against them. I hated them.

Of course I do feel that Fuzzspace is not a fair comparison unto the difference of canon Subspace and me, as once again that canon is wildly and extremely different to a point where it just feels barely like the phighting canon. One could easily excuse that and say like, “Why of COURSE you were vastly different! This was batshit insane!” and I would agree with you! However, I present to you 2space. This life is something I think about a lot as it is simultaneously the closest to canon and yet the furthest.

I, in my 2space life, while being a very humanoid demon, had very similar qualities to canon Subspace. I grew up in Blackrock with guardians (“caretakers” they’re called in canon) who adored Blackrock and tried teaching me about how Blackrock was the greatest and Blackrock nationalism and whatever. I became head of the robotics department and generally head of crystal research. I was a high government official who built Biografts. I had a fight with Medkit that led to him betraying the faction and me getting severely injured. The very basics of Subspace as a character that can be explained and go, “Yes, yes, seems to line up.” But I have to stop you there because seemingly everything seems to completely turn upside down when I tell you that the DETAILS of all of this are completely flipped on their head.

It’s looking at this general summary that made me think, “well, I’m not that canon divergent. My personality was wildly different, and of course there are the few details here and there that aren’t ever stated in canon (or straight up did not occur, as I was never poisoned and rotting), but for the most part I am close to canon in terms of a few things.” For that I would be terribly mistaken, as I had completely overlooked the fact that despite certain events happening that are close to canon, the very basis of how I acted breaks down the very character I kin’s personality.

I know a few different Subspaces in the times I have met and wandered about online and in kin spaces (kin… SUBspaces..heh… gets shot) and for the most part the differences I hear are very astounding, but expected, if that makes sense. However when I share what I remember, it is genuine and complete shock from EVERYONE. The alternate name I have for 2space is “Nicespace” because generally I have been told I was such a kind Subspace. I knew I was nicer but I think it goes beyond that.

Breaking it down, the first and most glaring difference has to be my relation with Medkit. Childhood friends, two halves of a whole, a platonic love for each other that completely ruined the both of us when we were forced to split (“platonic divorce leads kids to the WORST places!!!” says my bestie who also is the Med from that life as we were discussing it). I have heard that there are quite a few Subspaces that do miss their Med or feel bad for them, and it’s funny because I’ve seen the EXACT opposite. And I would like to preface this by saying that everyone’s feelings towards THEIR canon and THEIR Medkit are valid, as leftover feelings simply come with kinning.

I would like to circle this back to defiance, because my relation with Med comes into the biggest play in all of this. I feel perhaps that if I had not grown up with Med nor heard his perspective on the faction’s government, I would have perhaps more similarly gone down a loyalist path. But, thankfully, since that did not happen, and this will to push back was intensified after I realized that everything he had ever said about Blackrock was right, all those debates we had, that discussion on our views, he had been right about the corruption of the higher ups of that damn oligarchy. This only was reinforced by the fact that the higher ups wanted me to program MY creations to kill him on sight. Which, sounded like to me, ‘Kill the only person who ever truly loved you as a friend, kill your other half that you had lost to keep it buried for good.’ Of course, it was NOT said like that at all, obviously. It is what I took from that though.

That being said, this vast spitefulness that they took Med’s credit away from OUR crystal research, they labeled him as this villian, this traitor—it fueled my defiance for Blackrock. I’d secretly program in the opposite of killing Med on sight. Protect Med if he is ever found. I don’t think I was ever found out, but I’d pass it off as a glitch and begrudgingly fix it. I’d let Coil go initially when I beat him, because I didn’t want him to be at the mercy of Blackrock, considering what they wanted to do to Med. The list goes on, but every day that feeling of being trapped, that hatred for my faction, of where I had ended up in life: It grew, it grew into defiance for Blackrock.

And somehow, this is all from a life of SUBSPACE. Notoriously the guy with no remorse for torture, the scientist who says “Glory to Blackrock” with glee upon winning in game.

But that does not make me any less of a Subspace, does it? I might’ve gone down a similar route with a few wobbles as canon Subspace, but I faced everything so vastly different. So intriguing, so unique of a life. So canon divergent yet with strong elements of canon in them. I am still valid, and that life was as real as any. But it just surprises me as much as it surprises everyone around me about how I was. I see the canon with distain, a grimace when ‘Glory to Blackrock’ is said with such geniunity. It reminds me of the times I had to utter those words with a disguised venom behind my teeth.

That is to say my thoughts generally conclude upon the defiance being there, and especially for a character who is known to be highly loyal. It almost feels like an anomaly—I was expecting fully to be horrible and evil if I were to ever kinfirm Subspace but all I got was this stupid leftover yearning and misery. thanks kin gods (to be honest? more in a half joking way—I quite enjoy being a Nice Subspace).

But additionally my thoughts also were about the realization that while I qualify enough as a Subspace, I was very… VERY different. It just did not occur how different, how jarring it is to others. This is very interesting for me as well as someone who enjoys hearing about memories and lives and realizing vast experiences that don’t line up at all.

Though admittedly it can be a little isolating and strange to hear from my end bc every time I hear a Medkit speak about their bad experience of their Subspace i feel lowkey like that one audio that’s like “What a manipulative conniving bitch! Did you give in? NOOOO!” because i am medkit friend #1

I’d like to conclude this by saying that I would not change a thing for myself and simply these are my thoughts on the extremely vast difference between the canon version of myself and hearing people’s experience with more canon compliance, both from a Medkit and Subspace perspective. And, overall, how defiance is very prominent in a lot of my lives, but specially and SPECIFICALLY with both but Subspace ones. thank you for coming to my ted talk smile

[glowstone23b]

Today I think I shall gush about my piglin naming system! Inspired by Technoblade :)

Piglin names typically come in three parts, being (attribute)(thing you’re known for)(bastion name). Bastion names are normally used if you’re interacting with anyone outside of your bastion or horde, because goodness knows how many piglins out there are named Gold…

First names are usually a personality trait or something alluding to one, not always literal. Techno was named as such because he’s cool and calculating on the outside, like technology. Flint (my oc, for a second example) was named as such because he’s hardy and dependable.

Second names are given later on in life (some piglins choose not to use them, or never earn them)— these can be a lot of things! Usually it’s a profession, but it can also be a notable event in your life; it’s something people would recognize you for. Techno got the name “blade” because of his prowess with blades in farming and on the battlefield, and Flint got “bairn” for being good with those who are born (animals, but children especially).

Some piglins never end up getting second names, and some don’t associate with a bastion. Those who are outcast or choose to move elsewhere may take up a different name. They also morph with time— if someone becomes more well-known for something after they’d already received a second name, they’d change it to match!

This is the short version, amazingly enough. More under the cut if you’re interested in it! You’ll get a glimpse into how my mind works, lol

First names aren’t given until piglings start to grow their tusks in, around which time their personality shows a lot more. As a baby, they’re given a placeholder name by their parents or caretakers, which can be anything! Typically, it’s from a pool of names that that bastion or horde holds dear, so litters a couple years apart may end up having the same childhood names.

I actually have a list of some names that’d work in one way or another, though not all of them may fit together smoothly. You can likely shift stuff around and add or subtract letters so it rolls off your tongue easier. I mean, technically this is in english, so it’d likely work in the piglin’s spoken language, but hey!

Birth names: Typically some physically defining trait, notable action, or person/idol/role model, given to the piglet shortly after birth. Examples include steve/alex/jean, mud, snow, speckle, leather, squeal, swift, trot, crinkle, crimson, trip/skip, hopper

First names: Typically an object or item, or field of study or important advancement in relation to the piglin’s temperament around 8-12 years of age. Overworld examples are used less frequently, but tend to be given to piglets with exceptional or odd temperaments. Examples include Techno(logy), Flint, Fence, Ash, Ember, Clay, Obsidian (Obi-), Cinder, Gold, Flame, Blaze, Rose, Water, Rust, Cobblestone (Cobble-), Honey

Second names: Typically a thing or descriptor/verb (usually in past tense), given to the piglin after finding something they excel at or become known for. This is usually a word that pertains to multiple aspects of them (as with Techno, ‘blade’ refers to his expertise with bladed items both in battle and cultivation). Examples include Blade, Bairn (born), Char, Forge, Lock, Arrow, Shield, Bloom, Ferrous/Aurous, Brew, Heal, Tame, Craft, Knife, Smith, Saw, Sword, String, Saddle, Spirit, Breath, Grown, Wrought, Torn, Write, Built, Read, Smelt, Bud, Scar

Literally just copy pasted from my notes app so apologies if stuff is repeated or doesn’t make sense! If you guys have piglin name ideas or oc ideas regarding this I will give you a kiss on the forehead, I adore it.

The more I talk about it the more it sounds like how warrior cats name themselves. I know nothing about warrior cats, unfortunately, so I can’t say it holds true, but… I feel like this may be a common thing I worldbuilding. Regardless, I just think it’s neat!

If you are insane about piglins as I am or still relatively sane with a little interest in them, do interact! I’d love to bounce ideas off each other ^^! Also if you got this far I love you and tuck you in all cozy like a snug bug!! Don’t forget to eat and drink today, you deserve it! Okay that’s all for right now! :D

[eggs-can-draw]

Hi this was originally gonna have art but maybe I'll rb this with it later I unno I do not have Time to draw it and still finish this before eep time anyways normal foreword HI I don't know where this came from I went into a fugue state and just kinda started typing on google docs. this is mostly shuichi and kokichi thoughts with an infodump disguised as exposition. uh. Warning for Oumasai but only if you wanna see it that way I unno they're complicated rn

Sea salt on his tongue. Blinding sun in his eyes. Sand under his feet that burned him like coals in a fire. Today was long but he wouldn't have spent it any differently. After everything they had been through, they deserved a summer to have fun and heal from everything that had happened.

His mind still felt fuzzy around the edges but after a few weeks, he had become a master at the basics of who he was.

His name was Shuichi, his name felt good and Right on his tongue. He knows who his friends are and who his family is, and with every passing day, he remembers who He is a little more.

That said, it still frustrated him to no end every time he saw something and could feel himself remembering but he wasn't remembering. His mind would call him back to something he didn't have access to. He wasn't alone in this, they could be talking about anything at all but one small thing and a blank look would slowly creep across his friend´s face. He swore if you looked close enough you could see the static in their eyes. Hear the buzz of memories failing to tune in correctly.

They learned to live around it but that didn't mean they accepted it. Dozens of family photos and mementos from their childhood had been brought with them on their summer rehab trip to help with reconnecting the dots.

When outside of their daily allotted “Memory Rehab Time” they spent most of their time goofing off. Usami had tasked them with using a friendship bracelet system to rebuild their connections with each other. For every friendship successfully reconnected, they would both receive a friendship bracelet, with Mister Nagito and Aunt Nanami helping them tie the bracelets together.

He enjoyed the routine. He would wake up, go for a walk around the island, and meet his friends at the Hotel Mirai restaurant for breakfast. They’d all spend some time working on recovery for an hour or two then were set loose on building bonds and making memories. Halfway through the day they would all meet up for lunch and chat about how their days were going.

Today’s lunch was slowly wrapping itself to a close, he had been talking to Kaede about some songs he wanted to learn on the piano (He knew how to play!) and she had been giving him advice when she was eventually pulled away by Miu who had ‘Important Hot Girl Shit’ to do with Kaede.

So here he was, cleaning up the sandwich he had been eating and wondering what to do next. He had been hanging out with Maki earlier, both talking about some memories that had resurfaced from their childhood, but the dark haired assassin was currently nowhere to be found. As he looked around, Shuichi eventually realized he was the last person left. This wasn't a problem really, he’d spent many an afternoon on his own and was going to spend this one working on a book he had found when who else but Shuichi’s self proclaimed “Life-Long Rival�� came strolling into the room.

“Well well well, Mister Sherlock, all on his lonesome” Kokichi announced to no one, looking around as if the room were filled to the brim with people.

“Hey, Kokichi,” Shuichi replied, tossing his trash into the nearest can. “Why so late, I thought you loved lunch?” he added, turning to give the smaller boy his full attention.

“What can I say, I got a little caught up briefing my minions for our all out attack on the island, we strike in 5 days” he says, tossing a hand up nonchalantly.

“But since you’re ever so lonely, you know what that means!”

Shuichi gulps.

“You’re all mine Shumai”

And with his plans decided for him, Shuichi was quickly dragged out of the restaurant.

🌊🌊🌊

The sweet taste of ice cream, the loud noise of the Titty Typhoon, the cool ocean breeze on his now bare back, the calming lullaby of the ocean waves, the crunch of –

“LOOK ALIVE SUSHI-CHI!”

Violently ripped from his thoughts, Shuichi turned just too late to meet a water balloon directly to the face.

“What the- WHAT WAS THAT FOR???”

“You looked asleep!! I was helping!”

With a huff, Shuichi made his way over to the bench Kokichi was resting on. He WOULD retaliate but Kokichi just so happened to be wearing Shuichi’s jacket, leaving him safe (for now)

Once he sat down, a silence settled between them. Their day had been pretty hectic, with Kokichi taking him all over the islands to ‘Jog his memory’, but Shuichi was 99% sure he just wanted to goof off. All things considered, he’d gotten pretty fast after moving to a cane over crutches (not as fast as when he was in a wheelchair tho, he convinced Miu to add rocket boosters for the price of letting her ride too, and they never knew peace after that)

It was still kind of weird, all things considering. He didn’t realize just how much he knew about Kokichi until he was in the moment and suddenly talking about something dumb they did in the 4th grade. Kokichi always seemed a bit lighter whenever Shuichi correctly remembered what he was talking about, like a weight had been taken off his chest after an eternity of carrying it. Despite that, Shuichi couldn't help but feel like something was still bothering him.

“The sunset’s not bad,” Kokichi said, almost whispering. There was a fragility at the edge of his voice, threatening to crack and break everything.

“Definitely not the best sunset I’ve seen, but this will do for now, I suppose” Kokichi quickly added, a veil of confidence hastily thrown atop his voice.

“Uh, Kokichi-”

“I would prefer to spend this with my organization of evil, but you’ve made an ok minion for today”

“Kokichi.”

“The poison I put in your sandwich earlier definitely makes you an easy target thou-”

“KOKICHI.”

“UGH WHAT SHOE-ICKY?”

“Can we talk?”

“We were talking”

“You know what I mean”

“What is there to talk about”

“I just. I just wanted to apologize.”

“I- wait what?”

“I’m sorry for the way that I treated you. I understand that it was a ‘high stress situation’ and all, but I still hurt you and I just…”

“…”

“I don’t think I could live with myself if that was really one of the last things I ever said to you”

“…”

“…”

“…thanks, Shuichi. Really.”

Kokichi began to scoot away, but Shuichi shot up to stop him. They both stood there. Neither wanting to make the next move. The tension was almost stifling. Just as things reached their peak, Kokichi slowly moved forward and wrapped Shuichi in a hug.

🌊🌊🌊

Shuichi is a pretty honest guy. With that fact in mind, he definitely didn’t feel any tears on his back, and when they both sat back down on the bench, he remained perfectly composed the whole time.

And when he woke up later to find himself inside the small pillowfort him and their friends had built at the Hinata’s, he definitely did NOT wrap his arms around Kokichi.

[spring-lxcked]

okay separate post because tags were getting long, but william resenting ppl and not realizing it / not understanding why is like. Common for him. this is about michael. this is about henry. this is about elise / mrs. af.ton. potentially even some victims. he resents ppl being authentically themselves. he resents ppl being better than him ( or even equal to him, in some cases ). he resents ppl who don't "have" to try as hard, who don't "deserve" to be doing better than him, etc etc etc. but he can't pinpoint that. he's not as self-aware as he thinks he is.

[jichanxo]

this is from renall's Some Kind of Sunny Little Dream which is a side story to his other umineko fanfiction, Redaction of the Golden Witch, but can also be read as a standalone. it's very good and it's free and you can read it right now

[hoshanti]

i am starting to accept my fat body for the way it is, but like part of me still wishes i was born with the disposition (idk that's the right word) of a skinner body..

[heloflor]

Kind of a continuation of this post since I mention Cowgirl Peach having an expression that could fit Movie Peach, but also I didn’t want to bring some drama from a year ago into said post.

Basically I’m working on turning some of my posts into videos and my Peach comparison one is a prime contender for it once Showtime comes out, with a script already done (only missing the Showtime parts for obvious reasons). And working on that script made me think I’d probably make an updated version of the comparison post bc there are a few things I felt weren’t expressed well-enough, on top of forgetting a few things.

I also deleted the table post bc I wasn’t satisfied with the table and it was put at the end of the comparison post anyways so it’s still on my blog in some way (the language in the table was a bit too salty + I pointed out things like backstory to highlight how different the two are but at the same time Movie Peach having a different backstory doesn’t bother me in the slightest as this is a different continuity from the games).

So here I wanted to take a second to talk more about the body language situation and the whole “Peach can fight” thing, as I feel like my comparison post didn’t express my issues with those properly (2.9k words below).

For the body language, it actually took me a while to realize the issue, hence why in my comparison post I barely give examples and in my scenes rewrite I admit in the tags it’s more subjective than I thought. Thing is, I had this issue backwards, and it’s Mario Wonder that made me realize it due to Nintendo doubling down on how dainty Peach is in that game, along with the Showtime transformation trailer.

Thing is, it’s not that Movie Peach and Games Peach have two completely different body languages. In reality, Movie Peach’s body language can fit Games Peach on occasion (sports games, Showtime, Adventures Comic) but a lot of Games Peach’s body language doesn’t fit Movie Peach at all due to how dainty, soft, regal and elegant Games Peach usually is, which are traits Movie Peach is almost entirely missing (I say “almost entirely” due to her reactions during the DK fight).

This is why instances like Cowgirl Peach or her feisty attitude in the Adventures Comic are fitting for Games Peach (plus in the comic she still displays her daintiness a few times during the chapters where she’s wearing Luigi’s clothes), meaning I could see Movie Peach’s body language fit her when she’s in action. But at the same time, I am completely unable to imagine Movie Peach float around with a parasol, or being carried bridal style, or doing the same cheering animations as Games Peach in the sports games, or being a baker or a figure skater or a mermaid, or literally anything about Mario Wonder, because that’s just not the kind of person that she is. So it’s not that their body language is fully separated, it’s that one fits the other but not vice-versa.

It’s also worth noting that the vast majority of Movie Peach’s body language only fits Games Peach in very specific situations (again sports games, Showtime and Adventures Comic), the same way the vast majority of Games Peach’s body language only fits Movie Peach on like two small occasions (DK fight and fireflowers field).

This also speaks to the fact that Peach is a fleshed-out character who have done many various sports and other activities on top of her many adventures throughout the years, hence having a “wider range” on that front. Movie Peach meanwhile is more of a one-note character whose whole thing is protecting her Toads and being curious about her past.

It’s also the same deal with their voices. Showtime has Games Peach use a lower-pitched voice, but it’s literally the only game she ever used such a register (outside of maybe some obscure game I don’t know about, or the 90s cartoons which I didn’t watch so I don’t even know how in-character she is in those). So while Games Peach is capable of sounding like Movie Peach, she only does so on very specific occasions. And on the other side of the coin Movie Peach never sounds like Games Peach (I say never having watched the movie in english 😓). There might also be something to say about Games Peach only sounding like Movie Peach when she’s acting, with that same game seemingly giving her her usual higher pitch when she isn’t in costume.

Now admittedly I could still point out instances where Movie Peach’s body language bothers me from an adaptation standpoint, but at the same time I do feel like you could look up the sports games or even the Adventures Comic and find an example of Games Peach doing a similar thing.

I also realized that when thinking of the body language that bothers me, I sometimes actually mean the facial expressions more than anything else. Like Movie Peach declaring war with her fists in the air? I could see Peach do it to an extent. But that weird face she makes when the Toad interrupts her? Yeah no, it doesn’t fit. Same when she badly lies to Mario, or when she prepares to fight the first Kong they meet, or telling Mario that Bowser would eat him, or other small moments like those.

But I think the reason why it bothers me is actually bc her facial structure is different, given all the examples I just gave are of Movie Peach having an exaggerated expression. Meanwhile it doesn’t bother me when Adventures Comic Peach has exaggerated expressions, and Adventures Peach has a facial structure that's closer to the games. Plus, I remember when I first saw the movie being weirded out by the way her eyes look at times, so yeah, it might be due to her facial structure rather than the expressions themselves (hell when thinking about Adventures Peach looking like Games Peach, the first thing I think about are the way her eyes are drawn).

All this to say, there are legitimate complains about the body language but it’s less of a difference and more of a limitation on Movie Peach’s end.

As for the fighting, first of all yes all the abilities Movie Peach has are things Peach can do as well. I don’t know if I explicitly said it in the comparison post, but yes, they have the same abilities. My post also mentioned the fighting situation being my biggest issue with Movie Peach, and that still stands, but again I think I expressed it pretty poorly.

First off, while Peach and Movie Peach have the same abilities, their relationship with fighting are different. This is what I mainly focused on in my post.

Movie Peach sees fighting as the one and only solution to her problems and has no hesitation starting or joining fights. Even when given the opportunity to solve the situation in a possibly calmer way with the wedding, she still decides to turn it into a fight. She’s also on the offensive, being at the front lines and doing the fighting herself.

As for Games Peach, while the mainline games and Showtime are proof that she’s capable of fighting without hesitation, the RPGs also show that she’s more than willing to take the peaceful option if there is one. That one cutscene in Smash Bros Brawl is an especially good example of that. She also doesn’t mind sending others to do the fighting for her (Mario and Luigi series, the first Rabbids game where she initially asks Mario to deal with Junior before joining in later). And she’s on the defensive in the RPGs, being the healer/support of the team rather than a hard-hitter.

Another difference between the two is the attacks they use. While, again, both have the same abilities, Movie Peach is a physical fighter exclusively, and even the ice flower scene focuses on her physical abilities which she pairs up with the power-up. Games Peach meanwhile is much more likely to use magic or unconventional weapons (parasol, frying pan, throwing furniture, Stella’s ribbon, turnips etc), though power-ups are obviously also on the list. But also compare the way she uses the fire flower in Wonder to Movie Peach using the ice flower.

In fact, the only times Games Peach does some physical fighting are in Showtime, Smash and some sports games (unless you count jumping on enemies as physical fighting I guess). Also in Rabbids she uses a literal gun but the second game still gave her a parasol-shaped one, thus keeping in line with her usual unconventional weapons.

All-in-all, yes, Peach and Movie Peach have the same physical abilities, and if I did my job properly I didn’t deny this in my comparison post. But the main difference between the two is how they approach fighting, both in their relationship with it (how willing they are to fight) and the weapons they use. Because of that, even if the characters are capable of the same feats, their fighting styles nonetheless make them feel like two completely different characters.

Btw I didn’t mention the platforming and karting abilities being similar bc it doesn’t bring anything new to the table. The thing with the fighting abilities is that it’s tied to personality to an extent (Movie being more aggressive while Games is more defensive), which isn’t the case with the platforming and karting.

But there is a second issue, a much bigger one. In my comparison post, I mention at the end of the intelligence section how they traded off one of Peach’s strengths for another. But it’s actually much more than just one trait.

Thing is, Illumination was so desperate to make Movie Peach as cool and badass as possible that it came at the expanse of every other personality trait Games Peach has. The short runtime and lack of character development doesn’t help either.

And THAT is the biggest issue with Movie Peach and her willingness to fight, and why she fails as an adaptation while games like the Rabbids ones, the platformers and Showtime are able to make Peach an action-heroine while still keeping her perfectly in character.

Every single personality difference between the two can be explained by either that desire to make her badass, or a lack of runtime (bc yes I do think some of those issues aren’t directly related to the fighting stuff but instead lack of character development).

Seriously:

- Why is Movie Peach so willing to fight? Because she’s a badass and badass people fight.

- Why does Movie Peach fight with her fists rather than magic? Because frilly pink parasols and heart-shaped magic are for silly little girls and she’s a strong woman!

- Why isn’t Movie Peach smart to a noticeable extent or quick-witted? Because she’s badass, why thinking when she can already punch her issues away? In the situations she finds herself in, she doesn’t need brain if she already has brawl.

It’s also worth noting that quite a few instances of Games Peach being smart are tied to her inability to defend herself. In Paper Mario 64, she can’t win against Bowser so instead she sneaks around. In the Adventures Comic, she’s far too outnumbered and knows it, so she runs away and takes on-the-fly decisions to save herself. In Superstar Saga, she can’t just refuse a political visit, plot or not, but can’t face Cackletta either, so she devises a plan to remain safe.

But since Movie Peach doesn’t have such weaknesses, she doesn’t find herself in situations that need quick thinking. And when she kind of does, her plan is crazy dumb yet perfectly in character given how impulsive and fight-oriented she is (Toad sneaking the ice flower to begin with is ridiculous; she planned on taking a whole army by herself; she came back on her promise to Bowser thus giving him every right to hurt her people; she actually loses her power-up and the cages only gets saved thanks to Mario and DK showing up, who Movie Peach had no idea were coming; given her reaction she didn’t know about the cages meaning she intended on using the ice flower regardless instead of accepting the wedding and sneaking off when Bowser’s guard is down).

- Why is Movie Peach sassy in a snarky way rather than a playful way likes Games Peach? Because she’s a badass and that’s how badass characters act.

- Why isn’t Movie Peach particularly stubborn? Because she’s badass meaning nobody questions her ideas, and the two times she has to argue (Cranky and Bowser) it’s reasonable for her to do so.

- Why is Movie Peach serious in a “shit is about to go down” kind of way rather than a “I hope other people will be alright while I deal with this” kind of way like Games Peach? Because she’s badass and badass people focus on the fight ahead.

- Why is Movie Peach confident to the point of smiling when fighting unlike Games Peach who looks more serious during fights (in the Showtime renders that have her smirk, she isn’t currently fighting, outside of the Cowgirl one ironically enough; plus she has a serious face in the Kung Fu kick from the gameplay and both her Ninja and Mighty attacking render; pretty sure it’s a similar deal in the Rabbids games and Super Mario RPG)? Because that’s how badass characters look when they fight.

- How come a lot of Games Peach’s body language doesn’t fit Movie Peach? Because Movie Peach is a badass and badass characters shouldn’t be soft and dainty. This also circles back to the Showtime box art change and how much I hate it.

- Why isn’t Movie Peach kind to the same ridiculous extent that Games Peach is? Because we don’t have enough time in the movie for it. Oh and she’s a badass so she has to be snarky, even if it makes her less kind.

- Why doesn’t Movie Peach have that temper Games Peach has at times? Because they didn’t have time for it.

- Why is Movie Peach not a good diplomat? Ok tbh I have no idea for this one. Why did they make her suck at this, and why out of all the weaknesses they could have given her they decided to go with the one thing related to her status as a Princess???

Btw in my comparison post I said the issue wasn’t the “strong female character” stereotype in on itself and I still stand by that. It might make no sense but basically the issue isn’t with the character archetype, it’s the way Illumination did everything to make Peach fit a specific archetype that she isn’t, to the point of losing her core character in the process. It could have been another archetype than the strong female character one and the results would have been the same.

Finally, a small word about the few differences I forgot to mention in my comparison post:

1. Games Peach is an emotional person that can cry fairly easily, while Movie Peach isn’t. Actually surprised I forgot that one when it’s literally present in that one concept art sheet that I brought up numerous times.

2. Movie Peach is only curious about the human world and instead of it being genuine curiosity for another culture, it feels like she mostly wants to know where she comes from, learning more about her past as a form of closure. Games Peach on the other hand is very curious about trying new things, discovering new places and meeting new people, like her travels in Odyssey’s post-game, her going to the theater in Showtime, many of the RPGs, or her reaction to the hotel when you talk to her at the beginning of Luigi’s Mansion 3.

3. Movie Peach doesn’t have any hobbies, while Games Peach has an artistic side. She bakes and decorates her cakes, paints in that one series of pics showing game development, plus I believe her castle in 64 is an art gallery, and according to Showtime she has an interest for theater and is even a good actor.

And in regards to the list I made above, I would say the lack of curiosity and hobbies are due to the Movie not having the time for it, while her not being emotional is that desire to make her badass.

I also realized that they do have some traits in common, which are being brave, determined and adventurous. But the thing is, so is Mario, and Luigi after a pep talk, and Daisy, and the Toads, and Bowser, and Movie Mario, and Movie Luigi since he does follow his brother in his crazy ideas, and even Movie Bowser to an extent.

So while being brave and adventurous are very much traits that define their characters, the fact all the characters have it undermines its use when comparing the two. In other words, saying “Games Peach and Movie Peach are the same because they’re brave” is the same as saying “Peach, Mario and Bowser are all the same because they’re brave”. They need to have more traits in common than that, which they don’t, and that’s a problem.

I could even be an ass and point out that being adventurous is a pretty important trait for Games Peach in the RPGs, going hand-in-hand with her stubbornness. Meanwhile the movie really doesn’t focus much on that part of her. Basically, Games Peach in the RPGs goes on adventures because she wants to, while Movie Peach goes on an adventure because she has to.

Hell you could say the same thing about the bravery, with some RPGs like Paper Mario 64 or Super Paper Mario having character point out how brave Peach is being for a princess that often needs help herself, while the movie focuses more on Peach being physically capable rather than brave when complimenting her.

(Oh and a bit unrelated but I’d argue Movie Kamek is also incredibly OOC when compared to Games Kamek, as Games Kamek is a snarky little shit who knows he’s smarter than everyone else on top of having this tired dad energy who doesn’t get paid enough for this shit, both of which Movie Kamek lacks in favor of making him a yes-man that’s low-key in love with a Bowser that as a result I’m hoping isn’t his surrogate son; but one could argue that it’s due to how little screentime Movie Kamek had to really showcase his character, especially since he does show some snark in the scene where he tells the prisoners about their upcoming fate. And no, I don’t intend on making a long-ass post about this. I really like Kamek’s character but I don’t care enough to dissect his personality like I did for Peach)

[coquettepascal]

texas sweet

summary: joel is your friendly neighborhood dad of the year, so why is his driveway empty on father's day? better yet, why do you feel the need to make up for everyone elses absence?

tags: 18+, smut, handjob, desc of joel mastubrating, a "massage", neighbor!joel x f!reader, massages, general cheesiness, soft!joel, pathetic!joel, almost(?) sub!joel, reader gets blueballed (sorry), biting, joel whimpering, joel being a proud girl dad, no-outbreak, ellie and sarah exist, tommy is mentioned(!!), joel is a southern gentleman, mention of reader having parents, no desc of reader but she can fit between joel and the couch, dilf!joel (yum)

-> part. ii here!

a/n: my first joel fic ever... i would like to thank every person who has written no-outbreak!joel or pre-outbreak!joel. i freaked it.

texas sweet masterlist and my masterlist

(4.9k, not beta read.)

Moving to Texas was not the plan, or even the “blessing” your mother claimed it would be. Being the one who took over your grandparents home after they moved to a seniors facility? Fantastic! Amazing, even. Leaving your job, friends, and boyfriend, back home? Horrible. Heart wrenching and annoying. 

Austin, for the most part, was lonely. Long distance didn’t end up working between you and your boyfriend, your friends just got busier with their jobs, and it wasn’t like your parents could just drive 14 hours to see you every weekend. Co-workers were nice, but honestly who really wants to hang out with people you already spend 40 hours a week with? Maybe you were jaded, or picky, which was what your mother also claimed, or maybe your whole life was uprooted for what felt like no reason.

What you weren’t picky about, was the view from your bedroom window. You’re not a peeping tom, or a perv, but it isn’t your fault that your dilf-y next door neighbor is so easy on the eyes.

No, moving to Austin was not a blessing, but Joel Miller was.

Joel was the neighborhood guy. Need an oil change? Joel. Need your fence fixed? Joel. Block party? Joel’s yard. It’s like he doesn’t know how to say no to anybody, that southern politeness deeper than the drawl that lies in his voice. When you had first moved here he had helped you move your couch through the door, all smiles and polite nods. He barely introduced himself before he was asking if you needed any help, and he had called you “young lady,” which made you giggle. Such a giving man, but of course he was. A single father to two daughters? “No” wasn't in his vocabulary.

Sometimes, you think if your dad was as good a father as Joel Miller was, maybe you wouldn’t be fiending after him with such ferocity. Watching him with his two girls, Sarah and Ellie, was something that tugged your heartstrings no matter what. Sarah wasn’t around a lot anymore, apparently she went away to a fancy college. You had helped her pack all her stuff into Joel’s truck, but quickly went inside when you saw him getting misty eyed, you didn't want to embarrass the poor guy. Ellie is younger than Sarah and still lives at home. Honestly, you didn’t know much about her apart from the fact that she was adopted and that she’s in high school. She’s always happy to chat, but she’s also always going somewhere, which leaves Joel lonely sometimes. 

Joel seems better suited for loneliness than you are though. His brother Tommy comes around pretty often, though they seem fairly opposite. Tommy truly is sweet, has always chatted with you during block parties (even if it may be for nefarious reasons when he’s had too many drinks,) but he looks like… a fuckboy. Without fail, every time he rolls up to Joel’s house, he’s blasting some shitty new country music and wearing Pit Viper sunglasses as he carefully parks his spotless truck. Despite their differences though, they get along just as well. Your summer evenings are often interrupted by the sound of their laughs and the crisp sound of the two cracking open some cold ones. 

So why is it that when Father’s day rolls around, Joel’s driveway is empty?

You aren’t watching on purpose, you just happen to glance over that way a lot. The only action you see from his house is Ellie leaving for her friend's house sometime after noon, like usual on a Sunday. No signs of Sarah or Tommy. Part of you figured that maybe Sarah would make the lengthy drive down from her school, or maybe that Tommy would show up at some point, but nobody does. 

‘Not creepy,’ you assure yourself as you go upstairs to peer through your bedroom window to see if anyone is there. You could totally look through the kitchen window that directly faces his backyard, but you fear the day he’s looking right back at you. 

Looking outside, you see nothing. Joel’s grey-blue truck sits unmoved in the driveway, his plants are watered though so you guess he came outside at some point. The thought makes you feel a bit sad, the image of Joel and his soft eyes watering the plants, whistling to himself and trying to tell himself it doesn’t matter that nobody came. He probably really doesn’t care at all, a lot of men aren’t very sentimental or emotional about days like this, but you care.

He’s a good man, a good father, and a good neighbor. Seeing him be underappreciated on what is basically his day is ticking you off for some stupid reason. When 3pm rolls around you decide that you have to do something for Joel, it feels wrong not to. 

Which is how you end up in line for the register at Home Depot. You sat in the parking lot for 10 minutes racking your brain, trying to think of things that guys like, but came up with nothing. Joel is a contractor, so he’ll probably find some use out of a 50 dollar Home Depot gift card, but it still feels too impersonal. Joel literally fixed your toilet when a date you took home broke the handle off the tank mid-vomit. He’s too nice to just hand a stupid gift card with “Happy Father’s day” scrawled across the mini paper envelope. He deserves something thoughtful, something gentler than a gift card for (probably) his job. 

…Which is how you end up waiting in line for the register at the supermarket. You have a bouquet of flowers in your hand, with a Home Depot gift card shoved in your jacket pocket. It feels utterly ridiculous to give Joel Miller flowers, to pick out which colours you think he’d like and get the florist to wrap them up neatly with a bow, but you have a good reason. At some point in the past week you had seen a post about how a lot of men never receive flowers. It resurfaced in your head as you picked your brain again, making you wonder if Joel had ever received flowers. You know that he was married once, but that was when Sarah was little, it’d probably been 10 or even 15 years since he had any gestures like that made for him.

Not that this was for romance reasons. It was for father’s-appreciation-day reasons. Of course.

Maybe you shouldn’t be so invested in your neighbors emotions and life, but it’s too late now. You carefully pack away the flowers in the back seat of your car, snuggling the gift card into the ribbon that holds the flowers together. 

—

And if you thought that standing in line at Home Depot, or at the supermarket was bad, it’s so much worse trying to work up the courage to knock on Joel’s front door. You can’t figure out how to hold this bouquet of flowers behind your back without dropping them, so you just awkwardly knock on his door with one hand, flowers in the other. At least the gift card is managing to stay in place where you tucked it, but you wish you told the florist not to write his name in cursive.

Your repeating thoughts of “Is this weird? Am I weird?” are interrupted when he opens the door.

Joel looks… normal. He doesn’t look sad like you thought he might, if anything he looks more confused at you being there. His brown hair is tousled slightly and he’s wearing pajama pants, even though he smells fresh. Joel’s eyes meet yours and he tilts his head quietly, as if waiting for you to go on, but what do you even say? Oh shit that’s right–

“Happy father’s day,” your voice comes out shyly. You shove the flowers at him a little abruptly and he blinks in surprise, accepting them. It’s awkward for a second, the way his eyebrows shoot up as he notices the cursive lettering of his name written on the envelope.

“These’re for me, darlin’?” He asks curiously, still looking over the flowers.

A stammering of “um” and “yeah” leave your mouth pretty quickly and he smiles. You’re pretty sure he says thank you, but you just kind of stare at him awkwardly. A beat passes between the two of you as he admires the gift. “You uh– You don’t think of me as your dad, do you?” Joel asks. Oh fuck. You hadn’t thought about the fact that maybe that was what he would take away from this. All of your thoughts had been consumed by worries that he’d think you were trying to hit on him, but here he was thinking that you thought of him as a father figure. Which you didn’t. Your dad is fine, no need to replace him, at least not at this point. 

“No, no. Oh my god– Sorry,” You choke out, half laughing. It’s a quiet moment on the porch for a second, just the two of you standing there. Maybe you should explain your thought process.

“It’s just that you’re a dad and like– not to sound like a weirdo freak but nobody’s been at your house all day and it made me sad for you. Not that I pity you but,” your voice trails off as you fear you’ve made this worse. Joel seems a bit surprised at this, mouth opening slightly but then transitioning to a soft smile.

“And what if I told you that I wanted everyone t’leave me alone today?” He asks you slyly. And oh god, that is so much worse than him mistaking this gesture for flirting or pity. You never would have thought that maybe the guy who does everything for everyone probably just wants to be left the hell alone for a gift. Your heart drops in your chest, taking all the blood in your face with it. Embarrassment floods you with a force you didn’t realize possible, stuttered apologies leaving your lips as fast as you can. Joel shakes his head, laughing quietly as you sputter “sorry” repeatedly, like a broken sprinkler.

“I’m jokin’, sweetheart. I appreciate this,” he says. The crows' feet by his eyes shouldn’t be as charming as they are, but combined with that rumbling laugh and smile… he could get away with anything. He plucks the Home Depot gift card from the ribbon and huffs a laugh, like he’s impressed.

Well that’s… something? It made him smile right? Maybe feeling bad for Joel was better than feeling stupid in front of him. You step back, towards the stairs of his porch, but he shakes his head. “You were really this worried?” He asks, admiring the flowers. That makes your heart bloom in your chest, seeing how much he really liked this. Joel didn’t seem much like a flower guy, but you saw the way he kept his yard neat, with tulips in the spring and his lawn trimmed squarely. Shyly, you nod in response to his question. It feels silly to worry for him like this, you don’t know if he considers you a friend the way he is in your head.

“S’awful sweet,” he tells you. Something about his presence is so big, a balance of hospitality and intimidation all at once. Maybe it’s his big stature, broad shoulders and thick arms, a body built for work. Or his voice, the strong timbre of it, humbled in southern twang. Joel is a force of warmth, a heat that can’t be contained. His heart shines through his golden skin, forcing whoever he looks at to have a spotlight. That’s where the intimidation lies, in how he makes you feel like there’s a halo over your head, all his attention right there. 

He’s so hot you don’t even want him to look at you.

But there he is anyways, smiling as he admires the gift again, dorkily leaning in to dramatically huff the flowers. His mouth is moving but you're deafened by the sensation of a blush on your face. You thought it was just a silly little crush, because who wouldn’t find Joel attractive. He’s handsome, hard working, and just an all around traditional man. But this attraction… It's like your crush on him has given you tinnitus. His lips are moving and you aren’t registering the words. Wait shit, he’s speaking–

“Darlin’?” Joel calls. He looks at you, head tilted, and still fucking smiling. The way his eyes glimmer, the crows feet that squeeze them into a smile… Why is it so hard to hear him?

“I asked if you wanted to come in,” he repeats. 

—

You’ve never been inside Joel’s house, but you’d never thought about it either. Being in it, now, it all makes sense. Photos of his daughters are framed everywhere, their achievements plastered on the walls in shines of silver and gold. It’s hard not to imagine Joel hunched over his kitchen counter, tediously cutting pictures out to place them in frames. He was only an idea before, an idea of a man, and now he has become one wordlessly. All it took was stepping inside his house, smelling him everywhere. Life dances in the jackets that are tossed over dining room chairs, the toolbelt dumped by the shoe rack at the door. The picture of Joel you held in your mind begins to come alive, the movements in the details of his life stealing your breath. He is more than a good man, he is a great one.

And now, you have to strike up a conversation with him.

Joel grunts as he sits down on the couch beside you, placing two glasses of water down. He places his glass in front of the can of beer sitting on a coaster, distorting the label to nothing but warped blue and red. Is he hiding that he was drinking? Why is that cute? 

A pause hushes both of you as Joel gets comfortable, sitting down. He’s paused a show, but it just looks like it was whatever movie was playing on the local TV channel. 

“You must be so proud of them,” you say, eyes glazing over the pictures of Sarah and Ellie. You can tell exactly which photos were taken with a camera and which were taken with his phone. One picture of Ellie, maybe when she was 13 or 14, is from her soccer tournament. She’s smiling, holding up a ribbon for MVP, and Joel’s thumb is in the bottom corner. It’s strange to realize that Joel has basically been a father twice over, but also admirable. 

He talks for a little while, rambling about Sarah and her time up at college, and also how Ellie has been doing better in school this year. You always had a feeling Ellie was a bit feistier than Sarah was, but to hear how proud Joel is of her anyways makes your heart flutter. His love for them was so unconditional, so why weren’t they here today? You ask him, a half smile crossing his lips as he hears your question.

“Sarah called me ‘round lunchtime, one of them video calls. Had lunch with my girl and got to catch up with her. She’s so damn busy, y’know that? Always studying and,” he catches his breath, realizing he’s blabbing again. A reddish tone creeps up his neck in embarrassment.

“Point is, she called. Was nice of her, I miss her lots,” He finishes quietly.

Your eyebrow raises. He didn’t mention Ellie. Joel huffs.

“I’m 99% sure she’s over at Dina’s making me a gift, but it’s fine that she forgot. I’ve been on her ass about homework, fair’s fair.”

He looks cute when he’s begrudging, one side of his mouth sliding to the side so part of his cheek puffs over it. You nod, making a comment in response. The conversation is so smooth you forget what you’re saying as soon as you’re laughing. 

This is easier than you thought it would be. Joel’s always been friendly, obviously, but you just assumed he would be more closed off than this. Even if it’s just rambling about his daughters, or Tommy, or the jobs he’s been managing and how annoying his clients are, it’s something more. Something more than the passing glances and small conversation you’ve had before.

You talk a bit about your own life, how tough the move to Texas was, how lonely it can be. Joel doesn’t seem as receptive to this, but there’s an understanding in his eyes that you can feel. He’s a tough clam to slide your knife into, and you doubt you’ll feel his tongue today. The eager blabber he has for his family and career doesn’t extend to himself, and it seems you’ve hit a wall with him. Or maybe you’ve hit too close to home. “Sorry,” you say, feeling a little weird. 

This whole day has felt like you’re pulling against a lead Joel wasn’t even holding in the first place, like you’re always doing too much. But just like the rest of the day, he isn’t holding the rope around your neck. He’s surging forward with reassurances blooming out of his mouth, Texas sweet to the bone. 

He shakes his head, telling you that it’s fine, he gets it. A joke about being a single father, a smile directed at you, consoling. Vaporub for your congested anxieties.

“I’m sorry darlin,” Joel starts, and fuck is he sending you home? Is that your cue to leave? You did too much, he was just being nice.

“-- I didn’t even offer you water when you came in. D’you need somethin’ to drink?” He asks.

God, doesn’t he get tired of being this nice? Your neighbors warned you that he was a grump when you first moved here, dirty liars. 

“Oh, sure, uh. Water would be good, thanks,” you reply.

You’re only half paying attention to the grunt he lets out when he gets up the first time, your eyes busying themselves with the way his cotton tee stretches across the muscled planes of his back. But, after he hands you the glass of water and groans when he sinks back into the couch, you notice. 

You down the glass like you’re parched, but really your mouth just needs to be full right now. The sound of his groans are bouncing in your ear canals as your neck flushes red with each gulp of water. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything.

“Bad back?” You ask after you catch your breath. 

He hums in response, talking about how it comes with the job he has. “All that lifting in my early years…” as if he’s a thousand years old. Joel mentions that he’s been to the chiropractor a few times, thanks to Sarah’s begging and pleading.

“I don’t know, I think it’s gimmicky. They get you on the table and the guy feelin’ you up acts like he’s Christ himself,” Joel says, rolling his eyes. 

The idea of Joel, shirtless and face down, grumbling as some guy works his hands over his skin. The idea of Joel groaning in relief as someone else works those knots out, God you wish you were a chiropractor, you wish you could put your hands all over him.

Greed hardens over your mind like a shell, and the words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them.

“I could– I could help, maybe. My dad used to have a pretty bad back and I kinda figured out how to work knots out.”

Joel’s eyes widen, looking over to you with mild interest. For the first time today, around Joel, you don’t feel like you’ve overstepped. In fact he looks interested in this offer. A beat passes between the two of you, hesitation caught in his throat it seems.

It’s probably super fucked up in his head, his younger neighbor coming over and offering to rub him down. But your mind is still greedy, coated in thoughts of his skin under your palms, and that southern rumble that’s given you dilf earworms.

He looks like he’s about to say no when you speak again.

“You don’t even have to lay down, or take your shirt off. Could just lift it up,” you offer. 

Joel still looks like he’s going to say no, the left side of his mouth raising to make up some reason. You can’t let him, not when you’ve been this ballsy. Walking out of here now would make this infinitely more awkward.

“It’s your day, Joel,” you supply him with a reason to say yes. The reason might be silly, might be a last minute add-on to his father’s day, but who cares.

Apparently not Joel, since he pulls his shirt up to his shoulders, the fabric scrunching around his broad frame.

—

You feel a little stupid, slotted behind Joel on the couch. The two of you are basically shoved up against one another, Joel wriggling to give you access to his lower back. He hasn’t said anything yet, no reassurance that this backrub is any good. You think you’re doing well, you feel the knots loosening. It might be better this way, him not making noise. The groan you heard earlier was more than enough to push you into a frenzy.

Your hands work further down, where his waist begins to pull in. Looking closer you can see where the softness of his tummy is, a fatherly badge of honor. Continuing your movements, you gently press your thumbs into the flesh there, and earn yourself Joel’s first noise.

Not a grunt, groan, complaint, or cuss. A whimper.

Your voice clashes with his, both of you talking over each other accidentally.

“Are you okay–” you ask as his voice flounders again, a “Darlin--” leaving him out of his own volition.

Pulling your hands away you begin to pull his shirt back down his back, mortified. How could you claim you were good at this and then hurt his back more? Joel’s been through enough today.

“Please don’t stop,” Joel’s voice grabs your brain again, forcing your focus.

He’s sliding his shirt up again, just by rolling his shoulders as he hunches over, waiting for you to continue. His face is in his hands, and his ears are pink. It’s the first time he’s asked you for anything tonight, you can’t refuse him. 

Placing your hands back where they were, you begin to massage again. It seems like his lower back is the main problem, with the way he’s grunting into his palms. As your hands work away the aches he begins to swear to himself. 

“Fuck,” he grunts as your thumbs dig deep, soothing a pain he hasn’t felt eased in years. 

This is good. Pride spreads in your chest, knowing he feels better. Your hands work away, and you get laser focused on untangling these massive knots in his back. Eventually you break your focus, switching to softer rubs and small scratches up and down his back.

Tearing your eyes away from his skin, you realize the throw pillow that was beside you earlier is gone. The yellow corner of the cushion peeks at you from where you saw Joel’s belly earlier, over his lap. A thick forearm is crushing it into himself there, the veins in his neck pulsing. 

Flames lick up your face, onto the tips of your ears and down your neck, heating your spine. Is he aroused right now? “Joel?” You ask quietly. 

He shakes his head, voice tight.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Just– it just feels nice,” he admits.

Your hands pause. Okay, so he’s admitted he’s hard. What do you do now? Keep rubbing his back and blueball the poor guy? On Father's day? That seems mean, and awkward. Everything about this is awkward though, so it couldn’t really get worse.

“I could… I could help it feel better,” you offer meekly.

You’re not scared of a dick. You aren’t. Your voice is quiet because it seems like he is horribly ashamed of this, probably feeling guilty.

Joel rubs a hand over his face.

“You don’t have to, you can just go,” he says, but his voice betrays him. Need is sewn in his tone, a desperation.

Part of you wonders how long it’s been since someone touched him like this as you reach around, palming the front of his jeans. The hiss he lets out tells you it’s been awhile. How wrong that is, an attractive man like Joel being forced to get his own rocks off.

Getting the button and fly of his jeans down is difficult when you can’t see, even worse when your brain is making up images of Joel masturbating. He’s so shy when he’s being touched, does he bite his sheets? Bite his other fist in the shower? Poor boy, he deserves this. 

His hips lift off the couch to help you shove his jeans and briefs down. Joel’s bare ass slides against you and he cringes. “Is it okay if you don’t look?” He asks. 

You hate that he seems so insecure, but you’re not going to push him. Nodding into his skin, you press your face to his back, resting your cheek near the blade of his shoulder. He’s heavy in your palm, warm skin with veins your fingers can trace over.

Telling him that he’s big feels redundant, you’re sure he knows that about himself. Neither of you seem very sure about what you’re doing, the shuddering breaths from his chest matching your hesitant grasp around his cock. 

“Are you okay?” You ask again.

Joel nods into his hand, asking you to please touch him. 

Admittedly, it’s a dry hand job, but Joel doesn’t seem to mind. The flick of your wrist is fluid, even if your arm is cramping from being wrapped around him. Joel lets out these little noises, grunts and whines. His hand is covering his eyes while the other one rests lightly on your forearm, like he wants to know that you’re still there.

Need is exuding from him, making his desperation take over his need to really give a shit about how submissive he might be appearing. He shudders particularly hard as you squeeze on the upstroke, voice choking.

“Shit– shit, please,” he gasps, “please can I spit in your hand?” 

It’s a little surprising, but again, you can’t refuse him. You say “yeah” into his skin, closing your eyes as you feel him spit into your hand. It’s filthy, his saliva on you as he guides your hand to jerk him off. Joel uses your palm to slick the head of his dick, teasing himself on your skin.

It’s the first time you’ve seen him be selfish all day. Part of you wants to call him a good boy, but part of you also knows this might not be normal for Joel. Hell, this isn’t normal for you either. 

Instead, you ask him if it’s good. A rasped “yes,” emanates from him between a low groan and a curse. Your head lifts from his back as he begins to shudder, his orgasm creeping closer. Listening to him is so good, you’re a mess between your legs, where your core nudges his ass.

Without a thought, you sink your teeth into the meat between his shoulder and his neck. Not enough pressure to bruise or hurt, just to let him know you’re there. There was no intention to push him over the edge, but your little bite does. A guttural groan is forced out of him as he comes into your hand, stringing sticky between your fingers. 

“Fuck– fuck I’m sorry, oh my god,” he pants, shivering. 

Your head is shaking again, reassuring him that it was okay, that he’s okay. 

“It’ll wash off,” you joke, feeling the stick of him on you. 

—

Joel does help you wash it off, once he’s done redressing. He’s clingy though, arms around your waist and chin hooked over your shoulder as you wash your hands in his kitchen sink. He’s definitely sleepy, eyes blinking slowly when you peek at him while you dry your hands.

You step close to him, your damp hands meeting his dry ones. The awkward spirit of the evening has been killed off, his shyness melted away.

“Usually I’d offer to return the favor but… I have to pick up Ellie from her friend’s house now. I’m really sorry, darlin’,” he admits.

Shaking your head, you push away the negative feeling that surfaces. How are you supposed to go back to being neighbors after that? But also, what did you really expect?

Joel leads you to the door, legs a bit shakey. A smug feeling joins the negative ones in your chest at that, but it’s not enough. 

“I really do apologize,” Joel says again, “but this just gives me an opportunity to see you again. If you’d like, obviously. I think I owe ya dinner.” 

And there he is, not holding your lead but reassuring your heart. He wants to see you again.

Your eyes meet his in the dim light of the hallway, catching those sweet eyes in your own. He looks so hopeful, so apologetic too.

“I’d like that, but you don’t owe me anything. It’s Father’s day,” you point out. 

Joel rolls his eyes. This Father’s day excuse is a little overused between the two of you now, but it’s still cute to him since you’re the one saying it. He opens the door for you, slipping his own boots on and grabbing his keys.

“Fine,” Joel says, “but when Pretty Neighbor day rolls around, you let me know.

[barleyo]

Consequence.

Adoptive Dad! Enji Todoroki X Fem! Reader (smut)

A/N: nobody asked for this but idc :3 i wrote this as a b-day present for myself!! i luv this old abusive man so bad oh my god!!! nasty old man who tries to be good but fails so miserably :3 old man who is just MEANT to be awful and abusive and gross!! luv it!!! i wanted to do a full on incest fic w him but idk if anybody would be interested >_< just let me know!!

Tags: adoptive-incest (daddy-daughter), age gap (18-50s), p in v, purity, sexual abuse mentions, loss of virginity, allusions to physical abuse, size difference, creampie, gross nasty stuff in general

Wordcount: 1.6k

Once all of his kids had given him a final 'fuck you' and left him on his own, Enji felt the pressure of loneliness crash down on him. Being on top in the hero rankings was worthless to him when he came home to an empty house. Every second he sat alone in his house, he realized that it was simply too big for just one man. It had never been a home, only a house where a fragmented family resided. Only once his kids fled did that realization hit him. 

He needed to fill the space and quick, and more than that, he needed to start over. He wanted to redeem himself somehow. Whole new family for a whole new man. 

But dating was hard at his age, and all the decent women were taken. Only fame-chasing whores were interested in him at this point, and he couldn't blame them. What the hell else did he have to offer? No woman would want to be with a tired, emotionally constipated, divorced, middle-aged man. Nor would any want to have kids with one, especially not at his age. 

Adoption it was. Simple enough. Plenty of kids in the system. Plenty of needy little brats that could benefit from his new-found, new-wave parenting tactics that he read up on in his abundant spare time. 'Don't abuse your kids.' Who would've thought it? Crazy. 'Top ten reasons why your kids won't visit you when you're in the nursing home.' Well, shit. 

He knew he had to go older. He would be absolutely damned if he would take in a toddler, or worse, a tween. He wasn't ready to raise anyone— he needed something already broken in for the most part. 

17? Yeah, that should be fine. He could do that. Old enough to take care of itself for the most part. Another body in the house was what he needed, not another responsibility. A girl? Yeah. Girls were supposed to be easier, right? Girls are sweet and grateful, always considerate and willing to help out. Girls are gentle and tender. 

Just his luck. He got the most clingy girl the foster care system had to offer. It was, at most, a bit irritating for the first few days when you were skittish and nervous around him all the time, but he understood. The problems occurred when you started to get comfortable.

He thought he wanted an affectionate little thing, especially considering the radio silence he received from his biological children, but this was just too much. Wherever he was, you needed to be. All day, all night. Twenty four hours a day, seven days a week, excluding when he was on patrol. 

Enji knew that adopted kids tended to have abandonment issues, or whatever, but did you have to be such a damn velcro child? It was cute, in a way, the first year or so of your stay with him. He kinda liked it, having some positive attention finally turned his way, but at a certain point it was just too much. 

Like when you turned 18 and decided that sleeping alone was no longer an option. Of course, he gave in. He tried to argue back, but the threat of tears from you was too much for his now mended heart. He was trying to change, damn it. He couldn't possibly not give you everything you ever asked for. 

'Oh, what's that? Sleeping in daddy's bed isn't enough? He has to spoon with you until you fall asleep? Honey, do you really think—? No, no, don't cry. Okay, okay, I'll do it.'

Or when spooning wasn't enough, and you needed to be massaged before falling asleep in Enji's arms, taking up his bed like nobody's business. 

'What's wrong, baby? Daddy's already rubbing your back, what else do you want? Touch you where? Baby— okay, since you said please.'

Every night, his thick fingers ran tight circles over your clit, strong arms holding you tight while you flailed and wriggled against him. You never seemed to get used to his touch. It was just too good. He split you open with his index and middle, curling into the spot you couldn't quite reach on your own. Every night, like clockwork. 

But, of course, you, the mouse who was given a cookie, asked for more. Fingers weren't enough. You needed more from daddy. Sleep didn't come easily enough for you after his skilled touches. You whined for him after every exchange, but he just couldn't give you what you wanted.

Daddy would do almost anything for his baby, anything you asked! Hell, if it made you happy, if it helped to ease the guilt he carried from his older four screw ups, why not? If it helped to mend the hole he created in his own heart, he'd pepper you in every kiss and suck and touch you as much as you wanted him to, but—

he really didn't think he could deflower you. 

The idea was too much, way too much. Kind of hypocritical of him. Finger banging and slurping on his adoptive daughter was well and good enough, but playing a little game of 'just the tip' was a line he didn't know if he could cross. 

It was tempting, and every time he turned you down he felt like a real douchebag, but he didn't trust himself with you. You were so small. He was anything but gentle. He had broken enough of his kids in other ways, he didn't exactly want to add to the score. 

Your cunt was swollen and drooling after your near nightly ritual with Enji. Crawl up into his bed, whine, scratch at him and beg for his sweet touch. You always got what you wanted, except for one thing.

"Why not?" you whined, gripping onto his forearm as he curled his fingers into you from his spot behind you, lazily acting as your big spoon. 

"This is enough." His teeth were gritted softly, trying to hold himself back. "You cum like this just fine."

You let your mouth hang open, shuddering silently at how he seemed to speed up and abuse your g-spot. "Not enough," you were finally able to make out, legs clenching in an attempt to force him to stop. 

Enji huffed, ignoring your whiny excuse. He hated when you locked him out like this, trying to keep your cunt from him like some type of half-assed punishment. Moving your legs back open, spread even further now, he continued fingering you with the same brutal, forceful pace. 

"You're being bratty, baby. I don't appreciate when you act like that," he said simply, looking down at your convulsing body. 

"You always say that," you said, pushing his arm as you tried to squirm away from him to pout. "You don't wanna 'cause you don't love me. Don't wanna get close t'me." 

That was his final straw. He had been holding himself back for your sake, but he could not handle the hurt tone in your voice, even if he knew you were faking just to get him to bite. 

He pulled his fingers out of your hole and pushed them into your mouth, stuffing the digits down your throat. He slipped his girthy cock out of his boxers, jamming the wide tip into your needy warmth. 

"You know that is not true," Enji said, already fucking into you without regard to how you were almost too tight. He'd fix that. Make you fit like a glove soon enough. "I spoil you enough, and you still want more?"

You moaned, sound coming out muffled from his fingers blocking your words. He pulled them out, strings of saliva coating your cheek as he brought his hand back to your clit. 

"Jus' wanna be closer to you 'nd feel you."

He scoffed, pushing down on your clit with too much force, bringing you to the edge of climax already. 

"No, you're a spoiled brat. I give you too much," he said, not meaning a damn word that came from his mouth. "Got used to getting whatever you want, huh? Selfish little pussy taking everything it can get." 

The pure euphoria you get from him being rough with you for once is unmatched. Daddy gave you what you wanted all the time, and you liked it, but he was too gentle with it. Like he was scared to mess up or make a mistake (again). You needed him to correct you, you'd wanted him to fuck some sense into you for so long.

You clenched the silky sheets on the bed, hands trembling while he pounding into you, hips cramming against yours spastically. 

God, he was ashamed. 

Not because he was fucking his daughter, hell, he came this far without problem. He just usually was much better in bed. Your gasps and shaky moans did little to appease him. Any other time, he'd be composed and sophisticated with his strokes, but he was sloppy and needy now. 

His cock kicked inside of you, twitching when he spilled his seed. He was so caught up in his own embarrassment that he hadn't realized how dangerously close he had gotten. 

"Daddy, did you—?"

Your question was interrupted by his hand covering your mouth, unstable thrusts continuing to fill your senses. You couldn't care that he came in you when he made you feel this good.

While your legs shook and your pussy gushed, one thing was made very apparent to both you and Enji:

This was the first time he let himself go and fucked you, but it would definitely not be the last.

[fictitious-symbiosis]

SELF-SHIPPING TEMPLATES!

Greetings, fellow self-shippers and self-inserters! I come bearing templates!

Templates are fun, and I wanted to make templates that everybody and anybody can use. No DNI on these babies (though I ask you tag appropriately if mentioning darker topics, for the sake of filtering), and credit is appreciated but not required!

I've presented three colour schemes here in both stylised and legible fonts, but if you'd like a different colour, just pop it into your editing application and play around with the hue!

If you are unfamiliar with the terms or what I mean by them, "sharing" refers to whether you are comfortable with other people who self-ship with your F/O interacting, and "roleplay" refers to whether you're comfortable with people sending asks or interacting as your character, or anything else that involves roleplay. And, F/O means "fictional other," referring to whoever you are shipping yourself with! 😊

Fill these out and edit them however you like, and remember to have fun!!

[wonysugar]

going down on a dork || aeri uchinaga

synopsis : giselle, a camgirl, decides to make a dork a special guest on her page.

pairing : camgirl!giselle x bicurious!femreader

genre : smut

tags : cunnilingus, lots of it i think, mentions of fingering, mentions of hetero sex? sorry LMFAO, fem reader is implied to be bicurious, kissing, making out, giselle records this shit on her old gen macbook, we love an aesthetic queen, anyways yeah lesbian sex that’s about it really

word count : 1.9k

a/n : 4am… I TOLD YALL I COULD DO IT!😭😭but yeah uhm here you gooo i kinda don’t really care about it..? like yeah i wrote this butjfrjjf that’s about it… not one of my bests! like honestly this was not worth the wait i made y’all go throughfjdmdn I’M SORRY🙏but yeah erm i’ll proofread tomorrow cause rn i’m fighting demons to not close my eyesss gootnight love y’all or whateva

btw sorry for the thing at the end LMFAOAO i got the idea and just had to, i sincerely apologize

“alright.”

the familiar girl, known online as giselle, backed away from the macbook, grin on her face, and sat back down on the bed with another person, eyeing them excitedly.

“alright.” repeated the other girl, fidgeting with her hands nervously as she sat up, before adding on, “c-can they see me?” earning laughter from the content creator before her.

“oh they’ll definitely see you, just not your face, obviously.” 

the stranger, labeled as the dork in the title of the video, seemed to be somewhat relieved by those words and allowed herself to relax more, leaning back onto the comfy bed and putting all of her weight onto the back of her arms. by getting comfortable, her neck now came into frame, her hair length became visible. 

“so,” giselle spoke softly, her eyes switching back and forth between fixing on the girl’s eyes and lips, that is, with a playful grin. “you excited?” 

that earned a nervous giggle from said girl, “honestly? not even sure what i agreed to do.” 

truth is, this was a recurring thing for the camgirl, and it would be a lie to say that she wasn’t known on campus for that exact reason, especially by a particular subgroup of girls; she, a lesbian, spends her freetime interesting other women, whether they’re bicurious or simply just bored, into having (mostly oral) sex with her, whilst also being consensually recorded in the act so she can diffuse it online, later on. that was her whole internet thing, among the more solo-esque type of content she put out every now and then.

she gave a respective codename to each girl, as to make sure they stay completely anonymous whilst also giving them a tiny description, something for the viewers to go off of. multiple examples of those immediately come to mind; cheerleader, mom, hell, one of them is even straight up called woman in stem.

now, she had great amounts of fun with all of them, obviously, and all of those one-time occurrences contributed in making her a couple of bucks due to the number of views, nothing to complain about. but in all honesty, they were all just girls at the end of the day. this girl? she couldn’t quite place her finger on what it was, but there was something about her, something that exhilarated giselle.

she knew she was gonna have a lot more fun with this dork, and it definitely showed through her giddy-like expression when she spoke to her, she was by far the most entertaining one she’s ever had to partake with, and she hadn’t even done anything to her yet.

yet.

despite the under-average quality of the macbook giselle always filmed her videos with, anybody could guess that due to the setting, the initial rendezvous was a cozy study session, with nothing but the slight yet bright daytime sunshine breaking into the room through the mostly curtain-covered windows.

the title foreshadowed it all, however, and all it took were those uncertain words to make giselle want to turn that short conversation, this whole hangout, into something else, something more. she crawled closer and pressed her lips against the dork’s. the kiss was slow and gentle, as well as being the only thing audible in the silent room at that moment. 

she pulled away from the first contact, then softly spoke out a “you’ll figure it out eventually.” loud enough that the shitty microphone picked it up, before leaning back in again, this time in a comfier position as to properly straddle the nervous girl that was under her.

to the latter’s own surprise, she returned the kiss that was placed on her lips; it was clear she would’ve wanted to do more than just sit there and take it, easier said than done. she wished to actually allow her own hands to explore giselle on a deeper, more personal level, essentially getting accustomed to the feeling of having her body in this close of a proximity to hers, but alas, that wasn’t going to happen for a while, especially since that would officially mark the day that she’s ever touched another girl in such a suggestive manner. the laptop camera recording their every move just further added onto the feeling.

giselle knew that, though, the nervousness that radiated from the girl she intertwined her lips with was so thick in the air that she could practically touch it if she tried. “come on, pretty girl, relax.” she whispered to the girl in between kisses. it obviously didn’t take long after that for the kiss to get hungrier and more heated, which eventually resulted in having her slowly slide down to the dork’s neck, now dragging her lips across and planting messy kisses there, as well as leaving gentle suckles and nibbles. “it’s just you and me.” she added, her hot breath on the girl’s skin.

if giselle were asked to describe that day in full detail, she’d spend at least ten whole minutes gushing and rambling about how fucking good that girl smelled.

the latter seemingly let go and eventually left all of the work to the more experienced woman, taking in all of what was being put on her, slowly learning to ride on the waves of intimacy. soon enough, a content giselle slowly ran her hand up the girl’s graphic tee and reached for the back of her bra, attempting to unhook it with one hand.

which, she successfully did, by the way; muscle memory always came in handy in instances like these.

much to the other girl’s disappointment, giselle pulled away from her attention-deprived neck, breathing heavily as she looked down at the already somewhat visible markings, admiring her work. “do you have a boyfriend?” 

confusion now occupied the majority of the dork’s fuzzy mind, “n-no..” she replied, still shaken up by the mere, previous things the pink haired woman had done to her already, “i wouldn’t be doing this if i did.”

giselle smiled, amused by that answer, eyes hooded with nothing but intent and lust as she stared, “then, are you talking to anybody?”

“well…” responded the other reluctantly, now thinking more carefully as to figure out what exactly to call the strange relationship she held with the boy whose face popped up in her mind. “i-i guess you could say that.” 

giselle traced circles around the nervous girl’s stomach, hand slipped under that tee, with her black and white acrylic nails, feline-like gaze still fixed on her lips. “when was the last time you saw him?”

“..yesterday.”

“yeah?” she asked for confirmation, slightly tilting her head in query before subtly leaning closer, “tell me about it.”

“well,” started the girl, looking away as her hands found and held onto anything, her fingers fidgeting some more and playing with the bedsheets she was laying on, twisting, pulling, keeping her muscles busy. she felt like she had to use her entire brain power to recall the elements of the past evening and properly form them into words. she had barely succeeded,  “h-he asked if he could come over, i said yes, obviously, and we… uhm—”

thrown off by the sudden movement of hands slowly pulling down her sweatpants, she went silent and turned back to the girl in front of her as she tried to compose her untamed thoughts. 

“you..?” 

“right.” visibly distracted by the risky contact, the girl further struggled to speak, “w-we.. uh, we had sex.”

giselle smiled knowingly, “well no shit, genius.” 

giggling as she now had completely taken off the sweatpants of the person laying before her, she continued, “i meant in detail; i wanna know everything.”

“oh.” sighed out the girl, both in relief of finally feeling giselle’s hands on her deprived skin again and in thought.

the pink haired chuckled, clearly excited.

this was exciting, both for the viewers and the two parties involved.

the video cut to a more intense scene, the somewhat awkward tension having evaporated into the air and leaving more space for hunger, and desire.

“m-mmh—“ 

with a long, slow and almost painful swipe of the tongue, giselle managed to completely obliterate the girl’s train of thought yet again, leaving her a whimpering mess. the taste of her slick coating the entire surface of her tongue.

“just from one lick? fuck..” she lowly whispered into her cunt, practically to herself, slowly panting into it like a hyperactive dog would. she carefully spread the slightly swollen, moist with slick lips as she stared. it was so pretty, all exposed, wet and vulnerable for her.

she made her feel this way.

and because of it, she couldn’t help but want to give it another taste.

“come on, keep telling.” she reminded the girl with a smirk, who happened to have covered her mouth with the back of her hand, “i’m dying to know more, you know?”

that’s when she fully leaned into said girl’s core, tongue first; leaving gentle kisses and suckles all around the very clearly aroused bundle of nerves before going to town. it was hard to see the details, but it definitely wasn’t hard to hear them and what was going. 

every wet sound, every kiss, every lick, every suckle, every noise that forced itself out of giselle’s throat; all of it was audible.

“h-he ate me out...” softly moaned the girl, now practically biting on her hand to muffle as much noise as she could. this was a college dorm, after all. “he had his lips around my clit a-and his fingers curling inside of me and— fuck.”

giselle was visibly smiling against the girl’s core before pulling away for a quick moment, “if it weren’t for my nails, i would’ve fingered you as soon as you laid on this bed, baby girl.”

giselle would never do that for any of the other girls, her videos consisted of cunnilingus and cunnilingus only.

perhaps the dork was one of a kind?

“i know..” she responded hazily, her voice hoarse and shaky, “you w-would’ve done it better than him.”

“that’s right.” that earned a smile from the pink haired, a prideful and cocky one, “you know me so well, don’t you?”

“mhm.” she said, letting out a whine as she nodded in response to feeling the camgirl’s mouth on her. her body slightly jolted with each contact, the way giselle’s tongue maneuvered around her fragile flower, experience and familiarity showing through her movements and eye contact, even through the way she held onto the dork’s thighs. 

the girl kept telling, essentially recalling every little detail about how the boy fucked her. that, despite being fucked out of her right mind and forgetting how to form words properly.

all of those events were enough to drive the girl closer to the edge after a while.

“ae—“ she stopped mid-sentence and quickly corrected herself, “—giselle i’m about to c-cum..”

the camgirl kept doing what she did best, if not more intensely than previously. she needed to see that pretty girl cum her brains out all over her mouth. she was gonna make it happen numerous times if she was presented the opportunity.

giselle needed to see how even prettier the girl looked when she came.

the orgasm itself hit her like a truck, a loud one at that. she had unconsciously grabbed a fistful of giselle’s hair and pushed her head closer to her pussy, grinding on her and riding out her excess of dopamine. 

the girl eventually let go, and the video ended after the camgirl pulled away and sat back up, staring at the girl. both of them looking at each other and giggling together, giselle’s dimples more prominent than ever. 

maybe they giggled from nervousness? maybe it was from excitement? 

one thing was for sure, though, giselle was quick to book an appointment with her nail tech as soon as she could.