The Write Stuff (Lay The Very Best - Chapter 0)

Premier here! Just wanted to write something for this special day. Let me know that you love it and want it to replace the main series.

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Sandy's legs were nothing short of a marvel. It wasn't just that they were long and shapely, but they absolutely were; they also had the power to crush a Ryhorn's skull.

---

"Is this sexy?"

"This is very sexy."

---

Sandy sat at her campfire, the soft glow of the flames reflecting off her legs as she carefully applied oil to them. She massaged in the oil, smoothing a sheen over her calves and thighs with a focused, almost meditative precision. Each stroke seemed to make her legs look even more sculpted, the light catching every curve and contour-

---

"We're not doing a whole story about her legs! Give me that keyboard."

"Hey! My idea, my intro!"

"It would be nice if you described her more."

"You're right, I shouldn't do a whole story about her legs."

"You listen to her but not to me? Such favoritism."

"It is, yeah, ehehehe!"

---

Using a cloth to wipe off her long, slender fingers, our human heroine looked up at the clouds shrouding the top of Mount Coronet.

---

"Human heroine?"

"She is? What's wrong with that."

"It doesn't sound right at all. Gimme the keyboard, come on, just let me try."

---

She wiped her long, slender fingers with a cloth, then looked up at the clouds shrouding Mount Coronet's peak, feeling the mountain air's chill against her skin. Sandy had collected a lot of inheritance in preparation, but the biting wind this high up meant even an Ice Body got goosebumps.

---

"Okay, that is better. You snuck the reveal in there talking about inheritance."

"I am better than you in so many ways."

"Calcine put her in a headlock! She's being smug."

"If I did that every time, she'd never get out, let her write."

---

She'd come to battle not just a legendary, but the legendary. She was going to fuck the goddess herself, and for that, she'd honed her body to be the perfect tool. Sandy's butt, for example, was a panty-wetting marvel. It was as if it had been sculpted by Arceus herself, its smooth curve so breathtaking that she'd had to wear long skirts to stop dopey redheads from walking into lampposts.

---

"Wow, you held in the butt stuff for a whole sentence, incredible."

"It was a natural progression of the story."

"You gave me shit for the legs stuff, and you're just as bad! Calcine take over."

"Um..."

"Go on, we can't be trusted.

---

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"I have writer's block."

"You haven't written anything!"

"It's really bad."

"It's easy; just imagine a pretty woman and have her do things that are sexy. That's what we're doing."

---

Sandy didn't just have a perfect body, she also had a kind heart. A warmth radiated from her smile, making everyone around her feel like they mattered. She had a way of listening that made you feel heard, really heard, as if your words were precious treasures that she would hold close. Loyalty was in her bones, and when she said she'd be there, you knew without a shadow of a doubt that she would. She'd drop everything to help a friend, never asking for anything in return because, to her, kindness wasn't a choice. It was a way of life.

---

"Boo! Boo!"

"You can't boo your girlfriend."

"I can when it's this sappy!"

"You said make her sexy."

"I think she meant physically, but I have to admit this is kind of sweet. Compromise? We mix it all together."

"I'm not sure I can write about butts."

"Well I can, give me it. I'll wrap this intro up."

---

Sandy was an extraordinary woman, and the world knew it. Even as she left her tent, her walk was confident and smooth, with a subtle sway in her hips that suggested she knew exactly how much damage she could do and had already made peace with it.

It'd be a long trip up, and Sandy's long legs were coiled with the kind of strength that could send a Machamp to therapy even if they needed rest. Her skin caught the firelight as she sat down by the campfire. Sandy rubbed oil into her thighs, deliberate and slow, savoring the feeling of all that powerful muscle loosening under her own touch. Her whole body ached, and once her legs had been massaged into submission, she stood and shifted her hands to get two big handfuls of her own ass. Legend says a Buneary once fainted from a single glance of those pretty cheeks, and when she was roused by a single kiss from Brandy-

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"Sandy. I don't know who this Brandy lady is, but she definitely isn't in this story."

---

-and when she was roused by a single kiss from the legally distinct Sandy, she evolved on the spot.

But Sandy wasn't just her legs. Or her ass. Or her frankly insane tongue game. No, she had a smile like warm tea and honey that could brighten the darkest days. When she listened, she really listened, as if she were tucking your words into a pocket for safekeeping. You could trust her. You wanted to trust her.

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"Art."

"It's pretty good."

"See, you should let the Murkrow write."

---

But beyond even her pure heart, the most important part of Sandy was her incredible hat.

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"VETO"

"You can't veto this."

"I also veto. No hat."

"Well, how's she meant to be sexy without a really good hat? My suspension of disbelief is in shambles."

"Give me that back, I'm getting the story started."

---

Sandy didn't have time for the hat. Or any clothes at all. She was here on this mountainside with one mission. Sandy was here to peg a goddess.

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"Rephrase."

"I like it. It's to the point."

"I think we should treat Arceus with a little more respect. She is the most powerful woman in existence."

"Okay, you write it then. Because I think I was doing fire there."

---

Sandy had no need for ceremony or comfort today. She stood on the mountainside, stripped of all pretense, her purpose clear and unwavering. She was here to meet a goddess, not in worship, but as an equal. Ready to share in an intimacy both divine and undeniable.

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"Pegging."

"You can't just say it!"

"I would peg Arceus. Morgan?"

"I'd make her beg first."

"You two are being sacrilegious."

"I didn't know you were devout, Calcine."

"I'm not, but if she looks in on us, I don't want her to be mad."

"Don't worry, I got this."

---

She was here to meet a goddess, not in worship, but as an equal. Ready to share in an intimacy both divine and undeniable, Arceus, radiant and eternal, looked upon her and whispered into her mind.

"If that is your desire," the goddess said, voice soft as starlight, "then know that my consent is given, freely and without shame. Even divinity may yearn to be known. Loved. Pegged."

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"Okay, this is definitely sacrilege."

"Is it wrong to say that a human would peg a god?"

"..."

"Sparky, is it wrong?"

"... I mean, probably?"

"It definitely is."

"You two are being silly. She wouldn't be mad. She loves all of us."

“Usually, we're not saying she should be slam fucked into a pillow so hard it bursts."

"I didn't even get to that part."

"Well, I'm going to stand thirty feet from you so I don't singe my fur when she blows you up with a Hyper Beam."

"Let's have her fuck a Ditto instead? We can do all the worshipy stuff, but I won't get turned into smoking feathers."

"We'd have to restart the whole series."

"I don't mind that we're better at this now. Can Sparky start?"

"You're only saying that because she's your girlfriend."

"No, but that is one of the reasons."

"Love you, babe, okay then. I'll put a note on this fic and then one ditto fuck scene coming up-"

---

High above the mortal realms, in a sanctum where time bent itself into respectful silence, Arceus sat in radiant stillness, a glowing tablet hovering before her. Her expression, usually serene and unknowable, was currently one of pinched annoyance.

"Chapter 12 ends on a cliffhanger?!?!" she muttered, flipping through celestial tablet pages with a twitch of divine light. "Sandy climbs Mount Coronet, and then nothing? No resolution? No pegging?!"

Her daughters peeked nervously around the edge of the chamber, watching as the architect of reality paced in small, frustrated loops across the starscape.

"She trained for six months!" Arceus growled. "She oiled her legs every chapter. She made vows under moonlight. And for what? A hiatus?! A 'might come back to it someday' in the author's notes?!"

Dialga winced. "You could, um… smite them?"

"I could," Arceus said, eyes narrowing with immortal irritation. "But I won't. No. I will wait. Because I am patient. I am eternal. I am benevolent."

She paused.

"But if this fic isn't updated by the next equinox, I will turn their coffee into hot dog water. Every cup. No matter the source. Poke-Cénter machine? Hot dog water. Expensive Café latte? Hot dog water. They will taste regret."

"Yikes," whispered Palkia.

"Put it in the Book of Fanfic Curses," Arceus sighed, "Right next to the person who keeps writing me getting stuck in a washing machine."

"You have got stuck in it before," Dialga said. "It was a whole thing."

"Well. Yes. They don't know that."

"Okay," Dialga said, "Oh, last thing, Mom. Is this canon?"

"Absolutely not."